I'm In Love With A Stripper
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: AU where Castiel, seeking to relieve some stress, spies a flier for a stripper named Dean Winchester. Immensely attracted, he goes to see what it's all about. Lots of smut, struggle, and comforting. Stripper!Dean, Manager!Cas, and Sam is a businessman.
1. Chapter 1

Castiel Novak was in no mood for bullshit.

Three weeks he had been dealing with faulty equipment, a contractor who didn't want to commit to the cause, and a work crew who didn't speak much English at all. The worst part was they laughed at him. Laughed at him when he tried to make suggestions, laughed at his refinement, laughed at how he couldn't lift a 100 pound bag of concrete over his shoulder. He was a man of slight build – did it look like he could hoist heavy things? But if he wasn't out on the construction grounds constantly monitoring, he was afraid something might go around. No the contractor, Zachariah Lennox, didn't want to build the concert hall that Castiel had envisioned for the city of Makepeace. He was far more interested in building a football stadium - "no point in building some sissy performance crap" were his words. But Castiel had vocal supporters, and after two years of bickering and deliberation it was being built. Margrave Hall was going to be the finest space in the land – 3,000 seats, a grand lobby, and the best acoustics in the Southwestern United States. This small minded, instant gratification city was the problem – too many of them wanted sport, violence, mindless entertainment, not culture. Well Castiel was going to change that. The board of the Makepeace Arts Guild had payed him handsomely to come and build their city a concert hall, and he wasn't going to let them down. He closed the door to his office-trailer, and spied Zachariah coming towards him, grinning smugly.

"Something wrong, Mr. Novak?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Don't even ask me that question. You know exactly what's wrong. If your firm didn't have the resources I needed I would wash my hands of you as quickly as I could. Good night, Mr. Lennox." Cas walked past him in a huff, hearing the sound of laughing and mocking voices. He opened the door to his Mercedes G-Class – another gift from the Arts Guild – and drove as quickly as he could away from the construction site. He merged into the early evening traffic, taking care to not speed too much. He knew that he drove recklessly when he was angry, and the last thing the project needed was a dead manager. The Makepeace skyline looked gorgeous as the big Arizona sun set behind it, casting a dazzling show of oranges and reds all over the sky. Castiel relaxed, taking in its simple beauty.

Making his way down the drive to his apartment complex, he thought about what he would do this evening. Stay in and stress about the project? Get drunk? He got out of his car and went up the stairs to the lobby and checked his mail. All his usual arts subscriptions, the daily paper, nothing special really. Then a flier fell out of the paper. On it was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen, with the heading "Week of April 28th only – The Hunter, Dean Winchester – Appearing at The Slaughterhouse" and then a list of times and ticket prices. Castiel's loins stirred. It had been a long time, a very long time since he had gone out and just lived a little. He tucked the flier into his coat pocket, and walked towards the elevator, a little more jaunt in his step than there had been five minutes ago.

. . .

Two hours later, full of food and freshly showered, Castiel stood looking over the clothes in his closet. What do people even wear to strip clubs? He recalled his one and only experience with such an establishment back in his hometown of Asheville, NC. It had been his 21st birthday, and his friends took him to some hole in the wall club where he had been fondled and manhandled. Had it not been for the judo lessons he had taken earlier on in his life, he very well may have been raped. But the man on this poster, there was something about him that Castiel found to be irresistible. He felt himself start to become aroused, causing the white towel still slung low around his hips to tighten. Soon enough he thought. He couldn't help but remove the towel and stroke himself to full hardness. He leaned against the door frame of his closet, picturing Dean Winchester's bright green eyes, the way he looked into the camera with a predatory, completely sexual leer, the strong cut of his jaw... Cas was moaning embarrassingly loud, but he didn't care. As he stroked, he felt at least some of the frustration of the last three weeks falling away. Three weeks that he had neglected his own body, so busy he had been trying to clean up other people's messes. He reached behind himself, allowing two fingers to tease his entrance. He thought about Dean fucking him, staring into him with those eyes, those beautiful eyes. He slipped his middle finger in, all the way down to the base. He moved it in and out, doing his best to picture being used by the man on the flier. With a gasp, his orgasm shot out of him, splattering the hardwood floor in front of him with hot, sticky cum. His breathing was heavier now, long breaths that seemed like they were trying to carry his unease and tension away with them. He looked down at the floor, surveying the mess he had caused. He wondered what it would look like on the face of Dean Winchester... He cleared his head of the thought, and wiped it up with the towel. If anything, he was even hornier than he was before.

He moved away from the door frame, and began thumbing through the shirts and pants that hung meticulously pressed on their racks. Most of his pants were black – simple, effective. He grabbed a pair to his left, appreciating the cool cloth in his hand. He next looked through his underwear drawer, selecting a pair of dark blue briefs. If he wanted action tonight, he was going to make sure to showcase his considerable assets. He finally selected a dark red button down, nearly the color of blood. Over it would go a sharp, black blazer. He put each item of clothing on, appreciating how it all clung to his body. If anything, Castiel Novak was a sharp dresser, no matter what the occasion. He moved to the rack of shoes, selecting a pair of Oxfords. He loved the extra height that they added, even though he wasn't short to begin with. He opened his sock drawer, choosing a pair of solid black ones over his favored argyle. He drew them up his calf, then put the shoes on, carefully lacing them up. For just going to a strip club, he was going all out. Never mind that, he thought to himself. I want to make an impression, no matter how small the chance he might have of actually meeting him. With one last check of himself in the mirror, he picked up his keys and went out the door.

. . .

Dean Winchester was nervous.

The Slaughterhouse was one of the most famous strip joints in this part of the United States. The legends of the gay porn and dancing world had all made appearances here at one point or another, and it was intimidating to be performing on such a renowned stage. He was also feeling the pressure of getting his reputation back. He had just gone through a nasty break-up, and he was missing the company of a warm body to come home to every night. It had devastated him to the point that he'd stopped dancing for almost a year. Tonight was going to be his comeback. He had made the decision to dance here months ago, but was only just now was able to do so. His agent, Sam, who also happened to be his cousin, had assured him a full house. He and Sam had been close for years, ever since childhood, and had helped Dean launch his career and at every stage thereafter. Sam was like a brother to him more than a cousin, always looking out for him. He heard a knock at his door, and Sam's brown-maned head appeared in the entrance.

"Almost ready Dean? It's already a full house out there. I think tonight's gonna be a hit. Soon you'll be everywhere again." Sam flashed him a winning smile. Dean immediately felt better, his confidence soaring. Sam disappeared from the door, and Dean adjusted his flight attendant's costume one more time and walked out.

. . .

Castiel strode through the door of The Slaughterhouse, feeling an equal mix of nervousness and anticipation. His arousal had increased even more on the drive over, and he had to shift his erection so that he could walk with some degree of normalcy. He ordered a Jack Daniels and Coke on the rocks, and seated himself at a table in the second tier of the club. The lights dimmed, and an announcer's voice came on over the loudspeakers: "Gentlemen, put your hands together for The Hunter, Deeeeeeeeeeean Winchester!" A wild storm of applause, along with loud, thumping techno music broke out, and a troupe of male dancers came out from the sides of the stage, all dressed in what looked like flight attendant costumes. Castiel got even harder – they were all muscular, tall, and dark haired. The dancing line they were forming, hips pumping and bodies swaying, parted as The Hunter himself made his appearance. Cas's jaw dropped. He was even more sexy in person. There was a raw, rough, masculine way to how he moved. His routine was spectacular. It was like his hips were independent of his body, and he held eye contact with the crowd. Cas could feel the precum running from the end of his painfully hard cock, and was doing his best to not stroke himself right there in public. That's when Dean made eye contact with him, and a wicked smile played across his lips. Castiel's breath caught in his throat, refusing to leave his lungs. Dean bit his lip at him, and pumped his hips a little harder. Cas was drooling like a sex-starved idiot. Then Dean cast off his breakaway pants and shirt, leaving only a pair of bulging red briefs that left very little to the imagination. By now, Castiel could feel the beginnings of an orgasm started to form, and he tried hard to suppress it. A single contraction throbbed in his lower body, and he felt semen drip from the end of his cock. Dean continue his dance, still glancing in his direction.

. . .

Down on the stage, music thumping in his ears, concentration never breaking, Dean saw the most attractive man he had ever laid eyes on. He had what looked like black sex-tousled hair, a delicious dusting of dark scruff on his jaws, and the most arresting blue eyes that he could see all the way from the stage. Dean at this point imagined that he was performing only for him. Clearly it was working, because the blue eyed stranger was trying his best to have eye sex with him. Well he was going to give him exactly what he wanted. The song reached its climax, and as it did, the red briefs came off, and he finished the dance naked, big cock flopping wildly as he pumped and gyrated. He saw the man's eyes go huge and then his face contort into a mask of pleasure. Did he just orgasm? The applause was wild, and money was being tossed on the stage at his feet. He took a bow, and put a little more sauce in his step as he went backstage, thinking about the incredibly hot guy he had just seen cum in his pants.

. . .

And cum Castiel had. He had never cum harder in his life, and all without touching himself. He could feel his seed leaking out of his briefs. He downed his drink, and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. On his way there, he had several offers from various men, asking if he wanted to come home with them tonight. Castiel ignored them - he was in a daze. He had never experienced anything quite like that before. It felt completely and utterly filthy, but at the same time so very right. He got to the bathroom and went into one of the stalls that he was sure had seen plenty of action in their time. He lowered his pants and observed the damage. There was far more cum spattered in his briefs and down his thigh than there had been when he jacked off earlier. He wiped it all off as carefully as he could, not wanting the toilet paper to stick to him. He finished and left the stall, a tall middle aged man leering at him knowingly as he came out. He checked the flier in his pocket to see if Dean would be performing again that night – he wasn't. Letting out a sigh, he resigned himself to just come back the next night, when he would be performing again at the same time. Feeling somewhat more sated, he left the club and drove home, hoping that he would get a chance to meet this incredible man in person.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean that was incredible!" Sam came into Dean's dressing room as Dean was toweling himself off, removing the sweat and glitter that he had put on before going out on stage. Sam came over and wrapped him in a bear hug, clapping him on the back. "That crowd was going wild – what on earth did you do?"

Dean moved from Sam's embrace and sat down in the chair in front of his mirror. "Well Sam... I looked up into the balcony, and I saw the most handsome man I've ever seen." Dean put down the towel and looked back at Sam. "It's like his eyes – they were looking right into me. You know the saying looking into your soul? That's kind of what it felt like. I'm also pretty sure the guy creamed his pants too. I know an o-face when I see one. Sammy, I really want to meet him."

Sam leaned against the door frame and folded his arms. "Dean he's just a stranger who came to watch. Maybe he'll be back, I don't know. You've got five more nights here, so who knows." He straightened up and started to head out. "Again, fantastic job Dean. I think Makepeace is going to remember you for a long time. I'm gonna go speak with the stage manager and then head home. Don't be up too late – we have an early morning tomorrow."  
"Sure thing Sammy." Dean threw him a quick salute and Sam was gone. He finished cleaning himself up and got dressed, thinking about the raven-haired man that had captured his imagination completely.

. . .

Castiel sang along with the radio at the top of his lungs all the way home. He felt alive, happy, more so than he had in quite some time. He had absolutely no way of knowing what Dean Winchester was like, except that he was drop dead sexy, but he was enamored. After all, he had practically just had eye sex with him in a crowded strip club. Buttoned down, artsy, too-mannered Castiel, the man no one claimed knew how to live, was belting out "Pour Some Sugar On Me" as he sped down the highway. He pulled into his apartment complex, and passed the elevator and bounded up the stairs. He kicked off his shoes at the door, and practically moonwalked to his liquor cabinet where he poured himself a whiskey and drank it one gulp. He poured another and danced over to the iMac that stood on a stately desk near the window in his office. He wanted to know more about Dean.

He Googled his name, and was immediately directed to the agency Dean belonged to. He read his biographical blurb out loud:

"Dean Winchester, 28, also known as The Hunter, is an American model, stripper and go-go dancer who made his debut at The Big Spoke in Austin, Texas. For the last four years he has appeared at every major venue in the United States and at several of the biggest in Europe. Known for his raw power and passion, he is managed by his cousin, Sam Winchester, and will be making a comeback tour of the Southwest following a year's hiatus following the break up of him and longtime boyfriend Michael Campbell."

It then listed his vital statistics, height wait, etc. He was the same age as Castiel – even better he thought. He sipped at his whiskey and did an image search. There seemed to be a million pictures of the guy in various states of undress. The one that appealed to him the most though was Dean in a tuxedo, one hand over his lapel and the other at his side, holding what looked like a long, oddly shaped silver knife. He was looking at the camera with a completely self-confident half smile, green eyes blazing. Castiel printed the picture out. He knew precisely what he was going to do with it, and the mere idea turned him on even more.

He got up, drained his glass and shut off his computer. Making sure all the lights were off, he went into his bedroom. Feeling like a complete and total fool, but loving every second of it, he climbed on his bed and taped the picture to the ceiling. He went to his closet and stripped off his clothes, underwear included and then stepped into the bathroom and began brushing his teeth, singing Def Leppard around his toothbrush. Feeling much better than he had a few hours ago, he climbed into his bed and for the third time that day, began stroking himself towards another orgasm. He worked his cock, now harder than it was at the club. He felt the pleasant buzz of alcohol in his veins, and he began to stroke as he concentrated on the picture above him. He thought of Dean running the blade of the knife along his body, not hard enough to hurt him but just to show him how much power he held in his hands. Cas's orgasm came much more quickly that time, with just a small amount of cum coating his fingers. He licked it off finger by finger, pretending that it belonged to Dean and not himself. Sated, he rolled over and, regretting slightly that tomorrow was a work day, set his alarm and fell into a blissful sleep.

. . .

Dean, after an intense rehearsal for a new routine the next morning, decided to check out the city of Makepeace. He found it to be a very charming city. He and Sam made their way downtown, checking out all of the shops, shopping for a few odds and ends, and generally just having a good time. Eventually, they found themselves at a cafe that served homemade Italian. They discussed the next parts of his tour, the clubs he would be appearing at, photo shoots, the works. He was pleasantly surprised that his tour would end at The Big Spoke in Austin. Dean was looking forward to it all, he really was. However, his thoughts were still mostly focused on the stranger he had seen last night. He had even dreamt of him, waking up to find that he had had a wet dream about the guy. He felt like an adolescent after discover that had happened.

"You alright man?" Sam's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yeah dude I'm fine. I just can't-"

"Stop thinking about your dream man?"

Dean blushed. "Yeah. It's stupid I know but..." He gazed off into the distance, not really sure of what to say next. As he was finishing his drink, Sam looked over his shoulder and said "Hey Dean uh, just out of curiosity, but would that be your dreamboat on that billboard?" Dean turned around and nearly dropped his glass. On the billboard, as plain as day, was Castiel. He was on an advertisement showing the construction of a new concert hall, along with a man that Dean assumed to be the contractor.

"Sammy -that's him!" Dean's body filled with elation. He read the tag beneath his photo:

"Novak and Lennox – Bringing to Makepeace The Next Big Note"

He saw the address and immediately began forming a plan. "Sammy can we-"

"You have to be back at the club soon. But I can give you the next best thing. I'll go to the construction site and see if he's interested in a VIP ticket. I'll get him for you Dean." Sam smiled at him. Dean clasped his arm. "Thanks Sammy."

"Hey – gotta take care of my star." They got up, payed for their meal, and soon Sam was on his way to the construction zone, seeking the man that his cousin had become so fascinated with.

. . .

Castiel was having a really good day.

He was getting along with the workers and even Zachariah wasn't being as much of an ass as he usually was. He had gotten in touch with the organ builder that would be installing the hall's instrument, and managed to negotiate a really good price for it. He had surveyed the whole groundwork, meeting with all of the foremen and suppliers. His enthusiasm had returned, and he felt like the sun was shining just for him. He was in the midst of looking over some plans for the parking lot when he heard a knock at the door of his trailer. He stood up and went to it, and upon opening it he was presented with a very tall, very handsome, nattily dressed man with long brown hair.

"Castiel Novak?" The man said in a warm, deep voice.

"The one and only. Can I help you?" Castiel was taken aback at the man's height and charm.

"I'm Sam Winchester." Cas's heart skipped a beat. "You mean you're..."

"Dean Winchester's manager. I believe that he wants to meet you."

Cas was speechless. He stood there, looking slightly dumbfounded. "Uh.. come.. please come in." He moved aside and let the taller man in. "I can honestly say that you're the last person I was expecting to see today."

"Well as it turns out, you and my cousin have a mutual attraction to each other, and it's literally all he's talked about since last night, so hear I am." Sam settled into one of the chairs and looked up at Cas. "So, on behalf of my star performer, I'd like to offer you a VIP ticket and a chance to meet him at the end of his show tonight." He reached into his coat pocket and produced a slip of paper. Castiel felt like he was accepting the key to heaven. "Just hang around after the show – I'll come find you." Castiel started to reach for his wallet, but Sam stopped him, saying that it was on the house. With that, Sam rose, shook his hand and left. Cas rubbed his hand over his face, not believing his good fortune. He was still sitting there staring at the ticket when Zachariah burst through the door. "Castiel – we got concrete guys out here who want to talk to you!" He snapped his head up. "Sorry Zach I was uh.. um... I'll be right there." Zachariah closed the door and went back outside. Cas put the ticket into his briefcase, and with as much dignity as he could muster at the moment, went to face the real world again.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean shouldn't have been nervous, but he was.

Sam had told him that he had met Castiel, and that he was coming that night. His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest as he prepped himself for this evening's show. He made sure his hair was styled just right, took extra time in shaving, and went a little easier on the glitter. His palms were all sweaty and he felt like a teenager going out on a first date. On top of all that, he felt desire. He was gonna have difficulty concentrating on his performance when he was caught up in thinking about running his hands through Castiel's hair. Sam knocked on his door, announcing five minutes to show time. He took one last look at the cowboy costume he was wearing, and stepped out.

. . .

Castiel was excited.

He had practically skipped down the stairs on his way to his car to go to The Slaughterhouse. He had chosen a simple collared shirt and jeans for tonight, thinking that he would be more comfortable. Instead his throat was dry and his stomach was doing back flips. He was actually going to meet Dean tonight. He had known of his existence for less than 24 hours and yet he couldn't think of anything he wanted more in the world right now. He got into his car and with a squeak of tires, was out of the parking deck. Over and over in his head he repeated the table number that he would be seated at. He hoped that it was close to the stage, right where he could see Dean up close and personal. Part of him knew that it was wrong to be so obsessive over a person like this, especially so soon after first seeing him, but part of him wanted nothing more than to get to know him better. Before he knew it, he had arrived. He strode into the club, feeling like he was walking on clouds. The host took him to his seat, not twenty feet away from the stage. He ordered a whiskey (why was he drinking that so much lately, he thought to himself) and waited.

. . .

Dean's dance that night was more intense than the previous. It seemed like all of the energy in Arizona had bottled itself into him and was manifesting itself in the way he rolled his hips and jiggled his ass that evening. Even the back up dancers were on fire tonight. The crowd was cheering and screaming practically from the moment he set foot on the stage. When he spied Castiel gazing at him, mouth open and his hands curled tightly enough around his glass that he thought, he immediately sprang an erection, eliciting an even louder cheer from the crowd. He finished his dance with a full hard-on, parading around the stage. He tossed his hat into the audience and went backstage, where even Sam was applauding wildly. He went back out three times to take a bow and blow kisses at the crowd before they finally let him go. Castiel, however, was cheering the loudest. Dean locked eyes with him and winked, swearing he saw the dark haired man grab onto the table as he went weak in the knees.

. . .

After the show was over, Sam went back out into the club. Castiel was sitting at his table, gulping down water and positively shaking with excitement. He saw Sam and stood up to greet him.

"Ready Mr. Novak?"

"Please, call me Castiel – Cas for short. And yes, I am ready – if I can actually walk back there." Cas's knees felt like jelly underneath him.

Sam laughed, a throaty chuckle that seemed like it rose up from his toes. "Come on – he's dying to meet you." He extended an arm towards backstage and Cas, doing his best to walk straight, followed.

. . .

Dean heard a knock at the door and jumped slightly. He knew who it was on the other side of the door, but he was even more nervous now. Taking a deep breath, he tied a towel around his waist and got up to open it. There, standing slightly in front of Sam, was Castiel. He put on his best smile, and stuck out his hand. "Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you."

"Ca...Cas... Castiel Novak." Cas took his hand and was met with a firm grip. It was heaven to finally touch him, even if it was just his hand. Sam nodded at Dean and left, shutting the door behind him. Cas didn't even know what to say. Dean was there, standing in front of him wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.

"I... uh..." Castiel breathed deep. "I can honestly say that this feels unreal. I never do stuff like this. Geez I feel queasy if I watch too much porn but this..." He couldn't bring himself to say anything else. It was like his insides had turned to lead.

Dean laughed, and offered him a chair, trying to hide his nervousness. "Look Cas – can I call you Cas? I don't normally do stuff like this either. I see guys in the audience all the time and don't give them a moment's notice but you... Cas you've honest to God overwhelmed me."

Cas's stomach felt like it had dropped to his knees. "God I don't even know what to say." Dean put a finger to his lips. Cas resisted the temptation to stick his tongue out for a taste. "You don't have to say anything Cas. Tell you what - I don't have anything to do tomorrow afternoon around one, so if you want to meet up somewhere for lunch, we can talk more. You know, once our hormones have calmed down." Dean sat back, waiting for Cas's reply.

Cas cleared his throat and spoke. "I don't have to be at the construction site save for the morning, so that works out just fine." His voice was far more steady now. "I know of this place called Lolita's – best taco shop in Makepeace. Want to meet there?" Cas's voice had regained some degree of steadiness.

Dean was enthusiastic in his reply. "Hell yeah – I love tacos!" Cas's relief was visible. "Thanks – thank you so much Dean." Cas smiled, and Dean could have sworn the room lit up when he did. "I'll see you then. Let me stick on a pair of shorts and I'll walk you out." Castiel stood while Dean disappeared, tugging on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt. He opened the door for Cas. He turned and saw Sam, who was talking to one of the lighting techs. Always planning, Dean thought. Sam caught his eye and tossed him an inquisitive look. Dean threw him a thumbs up, and Sam replied with an air brofist. Dean laughed and Sam turned back to the lighting guy.

The air was relatively cool for an April night in Arizona. Castiel shivered slightly at the abrupt change from the inside of the hot club. "Chilly Cas?" Dean asked from beside him.

He wanted to say not if you put your arms around me but suppressed the thought and said"Just a little bit – but that's Arizona for you. Hot one moment and cool the next. My car's over here." He led them over to where his navy blue Mercedes SUV was parked. Cas pressed the button on his keys to unlock it.

As he was getting in, Dean stopped him. He pulled him in for a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. Castiel's nerves stood on end from the brief contact, singing out loudly.

"Can I see your phone?" Cas handed it over, a crisp white iPhone. "I'm going to give you my number, and if anything comes up, don't hesitate to call – I'll answer. Have a good night Cas." He handed the phone back to Cas, who was at this point on the verge of fainting but trying his best to not show it. He started to get into his car, and then he thought of something.

"Wait Dean – let me give you mine." Dean turned back, a hastiness in his step. "Sorry about that Cas – got a pen?" Cas reached into his glove compartment, and wrote his number on Dean's hand.

"Thanks Cas." He flashed him one more dazzling smile and walked back into the club. Castiel's heart was singing in his chest as he closed the door and let out a breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. Tomorrow was going to be, Castiel thought, perfect. After all, he had just scored a date with a stripper.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, it rained in Makepeace.

It was the most rain the city had seen in years. It had started at dawn, with just a drizzle. By the time Castiel reached the construction zone, his windshield wipers were going at full tilt, the wet dirt causing his car to slip and slide as he drive up to his office-trailer. Not that it mattered much, because he was positively beaming. He had slept even better that night, with images of Dean dancing around in his head. It took every ounce of his willpower to not text Dean that morning as soon as he woke up.

"Morning Zachariah!" he said as he saw the older man standing outside the trailer. He canted his head towards the sky. "Nice day, huh?"

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "Yeah it's paradise. Look, this isn't gonna let up all day – I've lived here long enough to know that. I don't know how much work we can get done. We're kind of stuck until more of the concrete dries and any woodcutting we do, well Cas it's not possible today. I wasn't anticipating rain." He actually looked kind of sorry, which was rare for him.

"You know what Zach, you and your guys take the day off. They'll still get paid, but I don't want any of you slipping and falling in the mud. We'll just have to double time tomorrow. Sound good?"

Zachariah nodded in agreement. "Alright, I'll tell them. And Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry we've been so rough on you. You've been nothing but civil towards us, and you deserve a medal for that. I know the guys can be difficult. From now until this thing is built, we're on board, 100%." Zach stuck out his hand, offering peace.

Castiel took it, shaking firmly. "Apology accepted." He flashed a smile. "Your name will be on the dedicatee list, and your family will have standing tickets to any show – sound good?" He let go of his hand .

"Yes. That sounds great, actually. Thanks Cas." With a small smile, he left the trailer to give his instructions to his men. Meanwhile, Castiel dug around in his pocket for his phone. Pushing back his wet hair so it wouldn't drip on the screen, he sat down in his chair and pulled up Dean's number. Before he could talk himself out of it, he hit the call button. Not three rings later, he heard "Go for Dean!"

Castiel's heart fluttered. "Hey Dean, it's Cas."  
"Hey there gorgeous, what's up?" Gorgeous. Cas practically danced in his seat.

Collecting himself, he spoke into the phone. "This rain has put a halt on progress for the day, so I was wondering if you'd like to meet up a little earlier." Cas held his breath, waiting for a reply.

"That sounds great. If we could meet here at the club, we could get coffee or something. Sound good?"

Cas's whole body tensed with elation. "I'll be there as quick as I can. See you soon Dean." He hung up, clutching the phone to his chest. He read over a couple of documents on his desk briefly, making sure that they weren't of terribly pressing importance. Satisfied that things were in as much order as they could be, he started to hum "Someone To Watch Over Me" as he packed up his things and walked to the door.

. . .

Thirty minutes later, a blue Mercedes SUV pulled up to The Slaughterhouse, and Dean practically ran over to it. He pulled open the passenger door, revealing a smiling, damp-haired Castiel. Dean thought he looked good enough to eat with his hair half-heartedly trying to stick up all over the place and the dark stubble that was already growing across his face.

"To coffee?" Cas asked, putting the car back in gear.

"Please." It had been a really, really long time since Dean had been on a first date, especially on one with a person that he was dying to get to know better. He took a moment to try and place what Cas was listening to. It was Guns N Roses' "Paradise City."

"Dude you like Guns N Roses?"

Cas looked at him briefly, nodding as he turned his head. "Almost as much as anything else. I love music. All kinds, really. I was exposed to a lot of different kinds as a kid. My father was a drummer in a jazz band, then a rock band, and then principal timpani in my hometown's orchestra, so I grew up listening to everything from Shostakovich to Glenn Miller to Poison."

Dean was impressed. "Rock is my all time favorite. Unfortunately the clubs always play this loud dance club stuff that all kind of sounds the same to me. I'd much rather dance to the sound of electric guitars than computer-generated beats, you know? If I hadn't been a stripper I would have started my own band. Who knows, I might do that when I retire." Retirement, Dean thought. That's gonna be interesting. But maybe if Cas is... he shook his head. Easy there Winchester.

Castiel chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Dean's spine. He was becoming more and more attracted to him by the second. Dean resisted putting his hand on his knee, instead choosing to drum his fingers on the center console along to the music. He had a burning desire to touch Cas again, and not just brief contacts either. The kiss he had given him last night had been all instinct, and he was still reeling from doing so.

The coffee shop Cas selected was a local one, with lots of books on the walls and soft music playing over the speakers. Cas had spent a good deal of time here, reading or working on plans for the concert hall. It was somewhere that he went to escape, but it was also somewhere he felt comfortable taking Dean. They got out of the car, Cas extending an arm in invitation. He walked behind him, glancing down at the stripper's ass. Up close and personal, he could see that it looked like someone had put two perfect globes of skin in his pants. Cas very badly wanted to reach out and squeeze them. Maybe, he thought, if this date goes well, he'd get to do just that.

They ordered their drinks, and sat down in a small alcove away from the main seating area. Dean was the first to break the silence.

"So Cas, what brings you to Makepeace. I suppose now is as good as time as any to get to know a little about each other."

"Well" he began, "I was actually invited here. I've been helping foster arts organizations along since I graduated from college. I started working in my hometown of Asheville, NC – nice city if you ever get the chance to go. Anyway, I helped get the ball rolling on the city building a new theater, for plays and whatnot. Well, after that, I was being asked all over the Southeast to help with projects – drumming up money, drawing up designs, the works. There are halls and auditoriums in... nine different states now that I've had a hand in helping build. I'm kind of a jack of all trades. My parents are both strong patrons of the arts in addition to being performers – my mom was an amateur singer in addition to her daytime job as a city manager – and I guess they instilled a love of it in me. It's really rewarding, seeing people experience something new, something dynamic – that's what art is. Anyway, a year ago, the Makepeace Arts Guild offered me a position on their board to build them a new concert hall for the city's orchestra. Within six months, and with the help of a lot of people and a massive PR campaign, we had a design, the money to build, and an unwilling city. They wanted to build a football stadium for a team that hasn't had a decent season in twenty years, but they stuck to them anyway. It was a narrow victory, but the hall's finally underway."

Dean nodded, taking it all of what Castiel was saying to him in. "How far along is it?"

"Well we finished the foundation a few weeks ago. The land had to be cleared first of course, but the guy who was initially contracted to build the place died in a car accident on his way in the first week of construction. So we had to get a new contractor really quickly, and this guy has been giving me hell literally up until this morning. However, I think it'll be smooth sailing from here on in though. We had a little talk this morning and I think we see eye to eye now. That is if this rain doesn't wash the foundation away of course." They both laughed lightly. "With any luck, the hall will be open next September, in time for the Makepeace Philharmonic's opening night. It might not seem possible at this point, but we're getting there, slowly but surely. But that's enough about me. How did you end up here?" Cas settled back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm here because of my cousin Sam actually. He's been running a model agency since he got out of business school. He owns The Slaughterhouse and a photo studio downtown. He's been here for I think, five years now? A lot of good guys have gotten there start in the industry because of him. I started stripping when I was 19. Sam was friends with the girl whose mom owned the club I got my start in, and he asked me if it would be something I was interested in. I was working in a mechanic shop at the time, getting my hands dirty and risking a car falling on my head every damn day, so I was eager for something new, you know? Well, I'm an adventurous guy, so I decided to take him up on the offer. Nine years later, here I am. I only just now have debuted at The Slaughterhouse – it's famous, really famous, and Sam wanted to build me up before I danced here. He knows his stuff, so I didn't question it. Truthfully, I'm really glad I waited though. Sam's been a huge help, and nine times out of ten his judgment is right on. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for him."

"You really love him, don't you?"

"Of course. He's family. I was the best man at his wedding last year."

"He's married?" Castiel was more than a little surprised at that fact.

"Yeah – great girl. Her name is Jess. They're thinking about kids soon actually. I've never seen him happier than he is now."

"But he owns a gay-"

"Strip club, I know. Like I said, he has good judgment. He saw a business opportunity, and it just happened to be guys instead of girls. Guys come from all over the country to model for him. He owns fifty percent of the guys you see in the ads in GQ, Men's Health – you name it. He just doesn't let it go to his head, and always keeps it professional." Dean paused to take a sip of his coffee. "I gotta say Cas,with your looks I'm kinda surprised you've never modeled." Dean smiled at him, those arresting green eyes twinkling.

Castiel laughed. "I've never considered it, really. I've always worked behind the scenes, never actually out front. That advert downtown is the first time I've ever been on a billboard. I found it to be kind of embarrassing, actually."

Dean leaned in, putting his face close to Cas's. "Well I think you're the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on." Before Castiel knew what was happening, he was kissing Dean for the second time in less than 24 hours. This time though, it was slow, sensual. Dean's tongue pressed against his lips, seeking entrance. Cas gladly complied, allowing the warm muscle to slide in. Dean tasted like heaven, warm and pure. He could tell that there was a passion that smoldered within him, just waiting for someone to share it with. Dean broke them apart, looking deep into Castiel's eyes as he touched his forehead to his. "Cas I'd love to get to know you better."

All Cas was capable of at that point was just nodding. Finally he managed to speak. "I... I would like that a lot." This was going far better than he ever could have imagined. "But Dean... I don't know if I can.."  
For the second time that day, Dean finished his sentence "Commit to that sort of thing right now? I understand, really. Hell I'm only in town for a few more days before I move onto the next place, and I won't be back for awhile. After that, I don't really know what will be happening next. I still have to talk about that with Sammy. But Cas, if you're still here, I'd really like to go on another date with you."

Castiel's heart nearly lept into his throat. "Dean... I would love that. I really would. As far as I know, I'll be right here."

"Promise me just one thing Cas – the rest of the time I'm here, don't come to the club, because it's gonna be just that much more difficult to leave. But I really do want this Cas – you and me. Just not right now."

Cas nodded, feeling halfway let down and halfway elated. "I know that at this point, this is going to sound really, really cliche" he took Dean's hand in his and said "but I'll wait for you – no matter how long it takes."

Dean smiled again. "Alright. I think we've got ourselves a deal. Now how about those tacos?"

. . .

For the rest of that week, Castiel kept Dean's promise, but that didn't mean Dean wasn't constantly on his mind. Every night, he stared up at the picture he had taped to his ceiling. But every morning, he woke up to a text from Dean, just simple things like "Good morning :)" or "Hope you slept well." He didn't hear from him very much aside from that, both of them being wrapped up in their respective jobs. Soon, Dean started to move more towards the back of his thoughts, a warm presence in his mind. But Castiel certainly didn't forget him.


	5. Chapter 5

Three months later

The Arizona sun beat down hard, a harsh dry heat in the air. Castiel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and bent over a drawing table, wiped his brow for the umpteenth time that day. The hall's foundation and plumbing were complete, and the outer walls were starting to go up. Zachariah and his crew had been doing sterling work since April. No longer did he have to worry about faulty workmanship or supply shortages. He and Zach had even gone out for drinks a couple of times after work. But today, July 4th, was starting to test his patience. The heat, which was in the low 100s, was starting to get to everyone and he was finding it harder and harder to not snap at everyone who came up to talk to him. That and he really missed Dean. He was wondering when Dean was coming back what was happening in his life, what was going on. To distract himself, Cas had thrown himself into his work, arriving at the site early every day and leaving late. Often times, he would just eat something small for dinner and go to bed. He tried to push the stress away, but there was a lot to deal with. The Arts Guild was pushing for a January opening instead of September, cutting the time to build from fifteen months to five. Cas was trying his best to argue to put back the original date, but his pleas were largely falling on deaf ears.

He pushed these thoughts from his mind, and went back to his plans. He was trying to imagine where the organ would go, if he wanted the ranks of pipes along the back wall or just to one side of the stage. As he thought, he started to sing "It's Too Darn Hot", and thought about the shining pipes that would adorn the back wall of the stage.

"A builder and a singer – man I know how to pick 'em."

Castiel leaned up and turned around. Standing there in a crisp blue linen suit, skin a little darker and hair a little bit longer was Dean.

Castiel ran over to him, and circled his arms around him. "Dean... you.. you're back!"

"And for the foreseeable future too, Cas." His smile glinted in the sun, making him look even more dazzling than before, if it was possible. "So if you're still-"

"Yes. Dean, yes." Castiel pulled Dean's head down, and kissed him like his life depended on it. Dean pulled back, still holding Cas, looking into his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't call as much as I should have baby." Castiel put a finger to his lips, saying "Shhh, shhh. You're here now. That's all that matters. There will be plenty of time for forgiveness later." He winked, and the look in his eyes turned sinister.

Dean got the hint and shot back a look of his own"Cas, you're a little devil. Good thing I have a soft spot for the sort." Cas laughed and kissed him again. "I've got to get back to work Dean." He went over to his table and tore off a scrap of paper from his notepad. He scribbled something down on it, and handed it back to his new boyfriend. "Tell you what – if you show up here at say, eight o'clock tonight, I'll whip up something for us to eat and I'll show you just how I punish gorgeous men who don't call often enough." He put his arms around his neck for one last kiss. "Don't be late, or there will be consequences." He spun Dean around, and pushed him forward. "Get going, you sexy bastard. I'll see you tonight." By this time, a small crowd of workers had stopped what they were doing and were staring at the pair. Without even the slightest amount of shame, Castiel said "What, have you guys never set up a date before? Get back to work!"

. . .

Castiel put the finishing touches on the dinner he had laid out on the table in his dining room. Roasted chicken, fresh salad, a whole range of vegetables, and to top it all off the finest raspberry sherbet that Makepeace had to offer. He went to the ice bucket, making sure the wine he had selected, a moscato from his grandfather's winery back home, was good and chilled. He glanced at his watch – 7:55. He lit the candles on the table, and then went over to the stereo and selected an album of Ella Fitzgerald. It was one of his favorites – Ella Fitzgerald sings The Cole Porter Songbook. He put it on shuffle, and the strains of "Begin the Beguine" filled the room. Humming to himself, he went over to the mirror that hung above the table in the entryway. Right as he was straightening his tie one more time, he heard a knock at the door. He opened it, and there stood Dean, looking absolutely stunning in a gray suit and red tie.

"May I come in or is this just some beautiful stanger's house?"

Castiel laughed, and pulled him inside. Immediately he was in Dean's arms, kissing him. This is something I could get used to, he thought as Dean's tongue went in his mouth. God how he had missed this.

Cas was the one to pull away first. "Come on – I slaved over a hot stove for hours to make you something to nibble on." Right as he started for the dining room, Dean pulled him back saying low into Cas's ear "But I would much rather nibble on you" and began to tease and nip at Cas's neck. Cas moved his head aside, giving Dean access to the tender skin there as he reached back to run his hand through Dean's hair. When he felt a hand traveling towards his crotch, Castiel pulled Dean off and turned him around.

"Look Dean, I want this as bad as you do but really" kiss "I'm hungry. I make love much better if I have energy to do so." Dean groaned, seeing that he would just have to wait. He couldn't however, resist the look of eagerness in Castiel's eyes as he showed him the food he had made for them. It really did look good. It tasted even better.

"So you can sing, you're artistically inspired, and a chef? How on earth were you not single before?"

Castiel wiped his mouth. "I'm really, really picky about who I date. Ever since I came out, I've only had two serious boyfriends, not counting you. They never could get behind my work, the long hours, the effort I have to put into it. Eventually, they just left and I just went back to sleeping alone. I just want to say here and now Dean that I love what I do. It's been my passion all of my life. But understand this more – I want to compromise with you. I don't want to drive you away like I have them." He took his hand, and looked right into his eyes. "You're someone who I'd really rather not drive away."

Dean kissed the hand that had taken his own. "Babe you don't have to do that. I understand how important that is to you. I can see it in your eyes every time you talk about it. Yeah, it might be a little early to say this but I'll be right behind you the whole way."

His words brought a smile to Castiel's lips. "I don't even know what to say to that Dean. That's really, really sweet of you."

Dean stood up, drawing Cas up with him. He put his arms around him. "Cas, I know following a dream is important. I'm starting to fall in love with you, and I want nothing more than to be there to watch your dreams grow." Dean then drew him in for a deep, long kiss. This time, Cas didn't pull away. His hands roamed Dean's back, feeling every ridge and crevice of muscle through his jacket. God the man felt wonderful to touch. Dean's hands were on Cas's hips, holding him close. Soon they were squeezing Castiel's buttocks, trying desperately to take as much of them in each hand as he could.

Cas broke them apart. "My bedroom's that way if you want to..."

Dean's eyes were suddenly full of want."Yes." Castiel grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom. As soon as the door was shut, Dean pinned him against the it, hungry for more. His entire body was burning at him, burning for Dean to take him. He stripped off his own suit jacket while Dean worked on his tie and buttons. In between fumbling with their clothing, there were kisses, wet, sloppy, needy, I can't breathe without you kisses. Once their torsos were bare, Dean lifted Cas by his hips and pinned him against the wall, Cas wrapping his legs around Dean's waist. He was positioned slightly above him, the way Dean was holding him up. He had both hands in his hair, running his fingers through it as Dean ravaged his mouth. It had been so very long since another person had touched him like this, and he them. It was wonderful. Dean kissed and bit at Cas's neck, driving him wild. "Dean, Dean, Dean..." it was a chant on Castiel's tongue. Every time he said it, Dean's ministrations became more intense. He carried Cas over to the bed and set him down.

Dean climbed on top of him and pinned him down, his arms held above his head. Castiel was loving being completely at his mercy. His back arched as Dean circled and bit down on each nipple, his tongue flicking out to tease and bite at each one, making Cas whimper at the contact. The pleasure centers of Cas's brain were in full cry, making him made every time he felt Dean's teeth against his skin. Dean moved lower, kissing his way down his stomach, making his way to the bulge that was tenting the front of Castiel's dress pants. He kissed a hot trail down his body, his hands rubbing and squeezing Cas' thighs. Dean reached his waistline, and he unfastened Cas's dress pants, pulling them off along with his socks. He eyed Cas's straining dark purple briefs with need, and he slowly removed them, desperate to get at what was contained within them.

Dean's look shifted to one of astonishment. "You mean to tell me that you've never modeled with this thing? Cas you've got a fucking porn star cock" Castiel couldn't help but chuckle. The stripper was telling him of all people that he's the one who should have posed nude. Cas's thoughts were shoved aside as he felt the hot moisture of Dean's mouth go down on him. He had fantasized about this, but the real thing was incredible. Dean was an expert cocksucker. He somehow managed to keep a smile the whole time his mouth was around Cas's throbbing member. Those big green eyes were locked on Cas's face, watching the various looks of pleasure that passed over it.

Dean sucked and licked him for what seemed like an eternity, and it was getting more and more difficult to contain his orgasm. "De... please... st...unnggh" Cas was going to cum soon if Dean didn't stop. Dean obliged him by standing up and stripping off his own pants and boxers. Cas's eyes went wide at seeing Dean up close and personal like this. He knew Dean's cock was big, but now that he could reach out and touch it, he could see that his thoughts were way off. He could barely get one hand around it as Dean straddled his chest. Castiel got even harder as he realized that in the very near future this was going to be inside him. He flicked his tongue out, catching the precum that was leaking out of the swollen end. He moved himself lower, and opened his mouth as wide as it would go. Dean gasped as Cas's mouth slid over him, taking in a surprising amount. He had yet to meet someone who could really suck his cock well, and Cas was doing an admirable job. Those big blue eyes gazed up at him, twinkling in the glow that the bedside light cast. He reached behind him and stroked Cas, causing him to accidentally scrape his teeth over the head. Dean let out a small yelp.

"Oh Dean I'm so, so sorry. Let me make it better!" He puckered his lips and kissed Dean's weeping cock, then moved to lick it all the way from the underside of the base to the tip. His pain was soon forgotten when, to his surprise, Castiel flipped him onto his back and began to deep throat him. This was something completely new to Dean. No one had ever managed that before.

"God Cas baby.. that feels... uggghhhhhh" Dean's own orgasm was starting to move even closer to manifesting itself. "Cas please..."

His head popped up off of Dean's dick. "What's up sexy?" He continued to slowly stroke and kiss up and down his length, watching Dean wriggle.

"I need... you... soon... inside... please..." Castiel moved up to kiss him one more time, his hand going to the bedside drawer, fishing for lubricant and a condom. He presented them to Dean, but Dean pushed them back at him. "No baby – I want you to fuck me. Please. I need that sexy dick inside me. Make me scream until these walls reverberate with the name Castiel." Cas was a little stunned. He thought for sure that he would be on the receiving end of this, but here Dean was, pleading for Cas to fuck him.

"Are you sure?" Dean nodded, his eyes wide with desire.

Cas kissed him one more time. "Lay on your back for me then." Dean gladly did as he was told, and spread his legs wide. Cas unrolled the condom down his cock, and lubed up himself and then Dean. Dean started slightly at the coolness of it on his skin, but Cas rubbed it in until it was good and warm. Cas positioned himself, looking into Dean's eyes as he did so. "This might hurt a little Dean." He slowly pushed in, eliciting a long half moan/half cry from the man currently beneath him. He applied a little more lube to where he was currently sheathed in him, and let Dean's muscles get used to the intrusion. Dean's breathing relaxed a little more as his body got more accustomed to Cas's length.

"Fuck me baby, please." Dean's tone bordered on begging.

Castiel threw Dean's legs over his shoulders and started to thrust. Dean was deliciously tight. It felt as though all the heat in Arizona was contained within Dean's lower body. With each thrust, Dean moaned out "Cas" like it was a prayer. Cas moved faster, his hands wrapped around Dean's thighs to brace himself. He could tell that it was both hurting and giving Dean an incredible amount of pleasure at the same time. "Faster baby, fuck me fuck me fuck me" Castiel sped up, his cock gliding in and out of Dean's near-raw hole. Dean's noises were becoming louder, and louder, urging Cas on. Dean's eyes rolled back into his head and he screwed his eyes shut, his breath coming out loud and ragged. Cas was getting closer and closer to orgasm by the second. It welled up from the base of his spine, hot rivers of ecstasy that made their way closer and closer to his cock. He could feel Dean's pelvic muscles starting to contract as well, closing around Cas even tighter.

"CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!" Dean's orgasm ripped its way out of him, throwing hot ropes of semen all over his torso. The contracting of his muscles sent Castiel over the edge, causing him to bellow out "DEEEEEEEAAAAAAAN" as his own climax felt as if it was going to tear his lower body out from under him. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, riding the waves of pleasure that washed over his whole body. With one final curling of his toes, he collapsed onto Dean, breathing heavily, taking in the smell of their lovemaking. Dean's arms wrapped around him, and he planted kisses on Cas's damp hair and face. Castiel just lay there, letting his lover touch him more.

"That... was... amazing." Dean's voice was raspy in his ear. Ca moved to kiss him, soft, tender kisses that sent little butterflies flying around in Dean's stomach. Finally, Cas reached down in between them and removed his now flaccid cock from Dean's ass, taking care to keep the condom on. Dean gasped as he pulled out of him. He tied up the condom and dropped it in the trash can next to his bed. He snuggled up next to Dean, placing his head on his shoulder and trailing a hand through the cum that still covered his torso.

"You never told me what you were doing for work, now that you're back."

Dean kissed him on the top of his head and answered "I'm joining the regular rotation down at The Slaughterhouse and I have a contract with Vanity Fair. I start modeling for them next week actually. Like I said I'm here for awhile sweetheart."

Cas snuggled closer and hugged him. "So I get you all to myself?"

Dean chuckled. "Every night, if you want me baby. I'm all yours."

Cas picked his head up and kissed him on the nose. "Why don't we go see if making out in the shower is as fun as it is out here?"

Dean smiled and said "Lead the way, my angel." As he followed Cas to the bathroom, he noticed two black angel wings tattooed on his back. It was certainly an image he could get used to seeing all the time.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Dean woke up in a pleasant haze.

He wasn't in his own bed, for sure. It was a king size, with dark red sheets and pillowcases. The space next to him still contained a trace of warmth from where a body had been occupying it. There had definitely been someone here not very long ago. He picked up his head, and looked around the room. It was done in dark woods, and free of clutter. A hint of Polo Double Black hung in the air. Then he smelled breakfast, bacon, eggs, and what was that?

Waffles. Definitely waffles.

His mouth started to water. As he sat up, an ache spread through his hips and buttocks.

Then he remembered.

He sat up more and was about to make his way to the bathroom when he heard a deep, baritone voice singing "At Last" that was getting closer to him.

"Morning sunshine." Castiel stood in the doorway carrying a tray of food, wearing nothing but an apron and a smile. Suddenly, the night rushing back into his mind and he smiled.

"And to what to I owe the pleasure of this?" he asked as Cas made his way over to the bed.

He set down the tray on the bedside table and straddled Dean, taking his head in his hands and kissing him. "I figured I would feed you since I wore you out last night. Call it the gentlemanly thing to do." Dean smiled up at him, looking into his deep blue eyes as he did so.

"Cas, you're magnificent, you know that?" He rolled Cas off, and he sat next to Dean and removed his apron, tossing it over the end of the bed. He watched as Dean put the first bite of waffle in his mouth.

"Cas this is delicious – what it this?" It tasted as though he had just put a piece of heaven into his mouth.

"Old Novak family recipe – which one day I'll share with you." Cas took the other plate from the table. As he stood up, Dean watched his body move. Castiel was graceful, almost fluid in his movements. He forgot he was chewing and just kept his eyes on his body until he sat back down.

Cas smiled at him. "See something you like there stud?"

Dean swallowed, coughing slightly as he did. "Yeah... you. Goddamn it Cas you're beautiful." He just sat there staring at him, his eyes starting to become wide with lust.

Cas flushed red and turned his head away, but he was smiling. "Thank you" he said in a small voice. "No one's ever really called me... beautiful before." He looked back at Dean, who was gazing at him and chewing on a piece of bacon.

He swallowed and said "Well you deserve to hear it every day." He leaned over a bit for a kiss, and Cas's lips met his. He tasted like syrup and love. Good Lord, Dean thought to himself. No need to go all girly over him. Then he realized he didn't care. Cas pulled back, and a small noise of discontent escaped from Dean's mouth. "Let's finish this up, and then if you help me clean the kitchen I'll let you see how well I can deep throat again." He winked and put another piece of waffle in his mouth.

Dean had never scrubbed a dish so hard in his life.

. . .

A month and a half later

Since it was a Saturday, Cas was off. Dean had gone back to The Slaughterhouse to go over some new routines that Sam had sworn up and down would knock the socks off the crowd that night. Cas was looking forward to watching him, mostly because he knew exactly what those hips were capable of first hand. And also not just because Dean was sexy as all get out, but because he had such a passion for it. He was finding it more and more difficult to tell himself that he wasn't already in love, because he was. Ever since he had left on his tour, he hadn't stopped thinking about him. He caught himself in quiet moments wondering what he was doing, what he was thinking. Even when he was at his most focused, putting together the hall that would be the crowning achievement of his young life, Dean was there. In spite of the fact that he had known him for only less than a year, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted him in his life as long as he lived. He could only hope that Dean felt the same way. He was in the middle of thinking of this when the performance of _Aida_ he was listening to on the radio stopped and a news broadcaster came on:

"This is an announcement from the National Weather Service. A line of severe thunderstorms with highly rotating cells of wind is approaching Makepeace and the surrounding area from the North/Northeast at approximately 55 miles an hour. Residents are strongly advised to take shelter away from windows and seek lower levels-"

Castiel had lived through enough bad weather hopping around the country to know better than to not heed a warning about this sort of thing. Even though he was only on the fourth floor, he still felt it was best if he got down to the basement of his building. He decided to leave Dean a message saying that he was going to hunker down and that he'd see him soon. Right as he was opening the door, he nearly ran head first into well, Dean.

Cas stepped back, taken slightly surprised. "Uh, hey Dean. I thought you were at..." his voice trailed off.

"I was, but turns out it's hard to dance after you've had a big old cock up your ass." He moved closer to Cas and whispered in his ear "not that I didn't love every second of it." He was about to kiss him full on when an ear-splitting clap of thunder made the walls shake.

"Let's get downstairs, and maybe we can find a dark corner to make our own little storm." Cas grabbed his hand and headed for the stairwell. He nodded in greeting at his fellow residents, mostly older people of affluence, some younger couples that had money to enjoy. The Guild had treated him well, and he was grateful to them. The basement of Cas's apartment building looked more like a gentleman's club than anything. Big leather chairs, walls lined with books, and even a bar that was used for social gatherings.

"You know Cas, these are some pretty nice digs. How much are they paying you to build this bigwig concert hall?"

Cas rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly at Dean's slightly sarcastic tone. "It's a fairly high salary. Like I said, I'm passionate about my work. They've paid this place for years in advance – they want me to stay on as the hall's general manager after it's finished. I can honestly say that seems like a pretty good prospect. Who knows – maybe one day I'll be Castiel Novak, Chairman of The Makepeace Arts Guild, husband to a certain stripper named Dean Winchester." He turned to Dean. "Doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

Dean's smile could have lit up the room. "Truthfully, yeah. But, we'll just have to wait and see what happens." He kissed Cas, just lightly. "But I do know someone who I would love to find out what the future holds with." This time when he kissed him, it was far more heated, more needy. Cas pushed him off, saying "Why don't we see if there's a corner that we can occupy where no one will pay us much attention."

They made their way through the crowd, some taking chairs nearer the door, settling themselves in with newspapers, books, or friends. One of the building staff stepped behind the bar and began making drinks. Dean and Cas moved past all of them, looking for solitude. At the back of the basement, they found a loveseat, upholstered in dark green fabric and rich oak wood. Dean sat down, drawing Cas with him. Cas was straddling him, lips pressed against Dean's in a heated kiss. He felt hands untucking the rear of his shirt so that Dean's strong hands could caress his back. They were interrupted by a throat clearing loudly and Cas snapped his head around to see a rather stern looking woman with an armful of books. She scoffed and walked away. Cas turned back to his lover, looking slightly chastised.

"Maybe we should wait until later Dean. Besides, this is an excellent time to get to know one another a little better. I still don't know much about your family." Cas moved off of him, and settled in the seat next to him. "I just realized we haven't moved much past the very uh, physical part of our relationship." He leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Not that it hasn't been absolutely divine."

Dean smiled slightly and cleared his throat, trying his best to not think about Cas's hot breath on his neck. "Well Cas, I won't lie – it's not a terribly happy story." He blew out a long breath, collecting his thoughts.

"Well, I grew up in the suburbs of Austin, Texas. Not a bad place, state capitol, big city. Dad was always between jobs, drinking, coming home late. Mom tried her best to hold us all together. She was a nurse, and a good one. I can't count how many times she patched Dad up from bar fights and brawls. Well one night, he came home with a knife wound in his side and bled to death on the kitchen floor. I was 12 at the time. Mom didn't handle it well. Dad might have been a deadbeat but she loved him just the same. Well, a year later I come home from school and find a note on the kitchen table from her. Read an awful lot like a suicide note. I go upstairs, and she's in the bathtub with her wrists sliced open. To cut a long, sad story short, my uncle Bobby adopted me. He taught me a lot, stuff that my dad was always too drunk to do. I consider him more my father than the asshole who you know, helped make me. Sam, his son and my current employer, and I grew really close. Even though he was four years older than me, he always included me in his circle of friends. He's a lot like an older brother to me. He was the person I came out to first. I was seventeen at the time, and had just finished my junior year of high school. Man that was a tough night too. I had been aching over it for weeks, wracking my brain trying to figure out how to tell him. Well one night, he sat me down, we had some pizza, just shooting the breeze. Sam just sat there, listening to me talk. He stopped me and just asked if I was gay. Well, I couldn't lie to him. I thought I was gonna be sick, but instead of hitting me, calling me names, and tormenting me for it, he just sat down, put his arm around me, and he hugged me. Of course I had to ask how he knew. He just said to me 'Not just anyone spends that much time looking at briefs in Wal-Mart.' The next day, I told Bobby. At first, he wasn't quite as understanding, but he eventually came around. Said as long as I didn't eyeball the help while I was fixing cars, he was alright. Not that his help was particularly attractive anyway – overweight, balding, and chain smoking isn't exactly my type." Dean sat back and smiled to himself. "Anyway, that's pretty much it. My lifestyle hasn't changed that much really. Aside from when I'm onstage, I feel like a regular guy, you know? I still do my taxes, play some pool – I guess just what regular guys do. I'm not the type to go around asking. I don't drink much though Cas. I saw what it did to Dad – I won't do that to another person. You notice how I only have one drink when I'm at your place or at a bar? That isn't just so I'm good and sober for sex. I guess that's all there really is to tell."

Cas put his head on Dean's shoulder and put his arm around him. "Regardless of your past Dean, I think you're done really well for yourself. I mean, that's a lot to handle. No judgment from me." Cas looked up at him and smiled.

"Alright Mr. Arts, what's your story, since we're talking about this right now? You seem like an interesting guy and I want to hear the tale of Castiel Novak."

Cas chuckled. "Well, it all starts back in the mountain city of Asheville, North Carolina. My mom was a city manager and amateur singer, always trying to make the place a little better. Dad was a musician, a drummer. I told you that, now that I remember it. Anyway, they made quite a pair. Mom, straight laced and proper, Dad, always joking, living it up, and occasionally one-upping her in public. Never anything bad though. Sometimes during the summers when I was home from school I would tour with dad. I remember my first trip with him was with a Benny Goodman cover band. He claimed to my mom's protesting that 'It would be good for the boy to see the country.' And well, I did. I never spent more than a couple weeks at home during summer from the time I was eleven until I was twenty. That's only because Dad retired from the road and opened up a percussion studio in town. He still teaches, and mom's still a driving force for places like his. I guess with me, the apple didn't fall far. I double majored in music, voice and organ before you ask, and business, more specifically arts management. I got my start locally, and moved up the ladder. It's been smooth sailing from there pretty much. Honestly, this has kind of been the closest to a dream job as I've ever gotten."

Dean listened with enjoyment to Cas's tale. "If you don't mind my asking, how'd you figure out you liked to bat for the home team?"

Cas leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he did so. "The summer in between my sophomore and junior years of high school. I had gone to music camp, and there were several hundred other guys there, all singers or instrumentalists. Well the guy I roomed with that week Dean... he was a dream come true. His name was Adam, a tenor. Soft brown eyes, light brown hair, tall... I was convinced I was in love with him. He walked in on me jacking off the third night I was there, and he looked at me, looked at what I was doing, and without a word gave me a blowjob. Then I turned and did the same for him. I never saw Adam again after that week, but I knew right there that I was hooked on dick forever. I couldn't keep it from my parents, and they just smiled at me and told me that they had always had the feeling I was gay, and life continued on as before."

"Your life sounds like it's been a cakewalk. You should feel lucky Cas."

"It's had its ups and downs for sure. The arts is a tough, tough field to be successful in. Either you commit to it 100% or you get eaten. Arts organizations are vicious behind the scenes Dean. Not to mention the fact that musicians and singers can be incredibly frustrating to deal with. But some of them... it's like watching God create a world. When they get really, really into it, it's transformative. I can't tell you how many performances I've experienced that have brought tears to my eyes That's the best part of it – watching your hard work manifest itself." Cas sat up and looked Dean in the eyes. "That first time I saw you, what turned me on so much was your passion Dean. That's a huge reason I'm attracted to you – you love what you do."

Dean held his gaze. "I won't lie, it's something that I don't want to give up anytime soon. Maybe one day I'll start my own club, just like Sam."

Cas cocked his head to one side. "Speaking of which, how did Sam rise so fast if he's only a little older than you?"

"Honestly? Brains and charisma. The kid's a wizard with money and numbers and all of that stuff. He completed business school in two and a half years. He got his start by photographing guys and girls back in Austin when I was still in middle school for a modeling agency. He's got a thing for photography, let me tell you. The whole strip club thing started as a side job. He needed some extra cash and eventually decided to open his own porn site. He knew that there was a market for that sort of thing, so he cashed in on it. By the time I finished high school, he had sold a million dollar business and opened The Slaughterhouse. Sam's passion lays in the art of it all – he takes it really seriously. Honestly he keeps the club around for giggles. He manages me, but that's just so I don't have to do it myself. Sam doesn't make a dime off of me – he just points me in the right direction. He's comfortable enough now to where he can do that. But he still cares for me Cas. Always makes sure I have a hotel when I'm on the road, checks up on me, that sort of thing. He even set up a place for me here in town. Not quite as swanky as this place of course but he's got me in a comfortable apartment not ten minutes from here actually. But I've been thinking about telling him that I kinda want to move in with a certain blue eyed guy."

Cas's smile brightened his whole face. "Really Dean?"

"Yes. Cas, I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world." He kissed him, another one of those smoldering, I need you to live kisses.

Cas pushed him back, gently. "Dean I've been wanting to say the same thing to you for awhile now. I just didn't know what you would say."

"Castiel, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

He was about to lean in for another kiss when they heard the building's emergency broadcast system come on:

"A tornado has touched down outside the city, moving directly east at seventy miles an hour. Please go to your designated tornado shelter immediately. Repeat..."

"We better go Dean – follow me."

. . .

After a night of listening to the wind rush and thunder shake the building, Cas and Dean finally emerged from the the basement. Looking out the windows, Cas was relieved to see that the city itself had escaped relatively unscathed. Some trees had been blown sideways, and there was a bunch of garbage everywhere, but so far as he could tell, no one was hurt. That's when a thought occurred to him

The construction site.

He turned to Dean. "Dean – I have to go check on the hall." He ran up the stairs, intending to get his keys. Five minutes later, he was in his car and shooting out of the parking deck, Dean clenching with white knuckles the armrests in the passenger seat.

He made his way there in record time, dodging clean up crews and pieces of debris.

When he arrived, Cas's heart dropped.


	7. Chapter 7

"No." Cas's voice was a tormented whisper. He fell to his knees, mud covering his lower body as he did so.

The scene was complete and total chaos. What had been a fast rising structure whose outside was nearly complete was now a maelstrom of mud, shattered walls, and building material spread out over who knows how much space. It was as if God Himself had put his fist right through Castiel's building.

He noticed ambulances all across the construction area. He got up from the mud and ran to the group closest to where he and Dean had arrived.

"Sir, this is an emergency-"

"I'm the construction manager – what's going on here?"

"Six people dead, at least twenty other injured. They were all right in here." He gestured towards a pile of vinyl and other materials that used to be Castiel's office. "Tornado picked it up and slammed it back down."

Cas swore under his breath. "Any idea who? Or were the bodies..." He didn't want to finish that thought.

We managed to identify two of the dead – a worker named Uriel and the contractor – Zachariah Lennox."

Cas felt as if he had been punched in the stomach by a prize fighter. "Are... are you sure?"

The EMT sighed. "Yes. I'm sorry Mr..."

"Novak." He was trying to retain his composure as best as he could.

"Let us get this place cleaned up and then we'll contact you when it's safe. You should go now."

He nodded, and turned back in the direction of his car. Dean was standing next to it, looking extremely worried. Cas arrived next to him, head down.

"You want me to drive Cas?" He nodded, and gave Dean his keys. He climbed into the car, not caring in the least that he was getting mud all over his leather seats. Dean got in next to him, started up the car, and they drove away in silence.

. . .

Three days later

After attending the last of what had become ten very emotional funerals, Cas closed the door of his apartment behind him, alone. He had told Dean to go home, to let him be by himself. He went over to his liquor and poured himself a shot of vodka. He downed it in one gulp. He poured another, another, another until he was stumbling. He poured one more and settled down into his armchair. That's when he began to cry.

Castiel was not the sort of person who cried a lot. He was normally very stoic, passive with his emotions. Generally the only times that he cried were at performances that he found to be particularly moving. But this time, they were tears of frustration, sadness, and stress. Sobs wracked his body, shaking him violently. He took another gulp of vodka. He shouted at the ceiling, cursing God and anything else he could think of for ruining his building, his life's achievement. More vodka, more tears. Soon he was out of tears to cry, but instead he just hung his head in his hands. The bottle of alcohol in his hand was empty. He vaguely heard his cell phone go off in the background, echoes of Amy Winehouse's "Valerie" playing. He stood up to make his way to answer it, but then the floor was rushing up to meet him, and sharp, bright pain started burning in the side of his head, blackness falling over his vision.

. . .

Lights flashing.

Dean yelling.

A heart monitor beeping

More blackness.

Then light.

Castiel woke up, his head feeling as thought it had been split. Dean wasn't there, but his jacket was. He sat up, looking around the rooo. He was in the hospital.

He wretched violently, dry heaves that made his body sore. Why was he here?

He shut his eyes, trying to fight through the pain throbbing in his head. He lifted his right hand to his forehead and found thick bandaging there. He picked up the bedpan next to him and stared into its reflective surface. The face he saw staring back at him was... scary.

There were dark bruises all over his face, and his nose was swollen. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated. Cas – what did you do to yourself? On top of the pain, he felt shame. If he could blush, he would. He hoped Dean wouldn't see him like this. He was about to look for his phone to make sure Dean stayed away but then he was there, in the doorway.

"Cas you're awake." And then Dean was on the bed, hugging him and crying into his shoulder. Cas felt as if he might cry too, but he held it together.

"Dean what – what happened."

Dean sat up, wiping tears away from his face. "You..." he began, voice cracking. "You fell and hit your head. Cas there was a lot of blood – you caught the side of the table. And you had alcohol poisoning. After you didn't answer your phone for the fourth time, I figured something was up. Cas when I got there – you were face down in your own blood. I thought you had kill..." Dean turned his head away, fighting back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him again. "I checked you, but there was a heartbeat. I rushed you here."

Cas looked down, unable to meet Dean's tear-filled eyes. "When was that?" he said in a small voice.

"Two days ago. You've been unconscious this whole time. I've been here ever since. Cas, I was scared, really, really scared."

If Cas was in pain before, now he was really hurting. He was mad – mad at himself. He hated, absolutely hated seeing Dean like this, and it was all his fault. The person that he loved the most in his life, and he was hurting him. He put his arms around him, as tight as he could. Tears streaming down his face, he said to him "I'm sorry Dean." The tears were starting to soak through Dean's shirt now. "So, so, sorry."

They remained there for what seemed like hours, Cas holding onto his lover for dear life, trying to center what he had done.

. . .

The next afternoon, his head still bandaged but feeling far less disoriented, Cas returned home, Dean right behind him. The blood was gone, not even a stain on the floor. Dean had taken the trouble to remove all of his alcohol too, or at least hidden it.

"Dean where is..."

"Safe until you're all better. Sorry Cas, I got... scared." He looked at him, doing his best to convey concern.

Cas smiled at him, knowing that Dean was just doing what he thought was right. He moved to the kitchen to take another couple of painkillers. Dean was right there, opening the prescription.

"Dean you don't have to do that – really. I can manage." He tried hard to sound reassuring.

"Cas I'm not going anywhere."

"But the club-"

"Sam gave me some time off to take care of you. He understands. Just let me do this Cas, please."

Dean looked as sincere as he had ever seen anyone, and having him here would be better than knowing he was elsewhere worrying. "Alright D-"

Suddenly a pair of strong arms were around him, hugging him tight. "I'll take care of you Cas, I promise."

Cas found it hard to say no to him – why start now?

. . .

The following week

Bandage free save for a large Band-Aid over the right side of his forehead, Cas returned to the construction zone.

The place still looked like a disaster zone. He had steeled himself to what it might look like, but it was still painful to view. He parked his car next to the new office-trailer, and climbed out, hoisting his briefcase behind him. Thankfully all the numbers and plans he had had been backed up in triplicate, so the loss of his computer and files in the storm was negligible. But what he didn't have was a concert hall that had literally been knocked down to the ground at its halfway point.

He entered the office, flipping on the lights. It looked largely the same as his previous workspace, just the furniture was slightly different. He sat down in his chair and flipped on the computer, sighing as the weight of what he had to try and reconstruct finally hit him. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at the door.

He opened it, and was greeted by a brown haired man wearing what he swore was a cheeky smirk.

"Mr. Novak?" The man stuck out his hand.

Cas took it, shaking it firmly. "That's me – and you are..."

"Gabriel Matheson. I'm your new contractor. It's a pleasure."

"Likewise – come in."

Gabriel sat in the chair Cas offered as he settled behind his desk. "I'm not going to bullshit you here Mr. Matheson – we have a whole bunch of nothing to turn into something – and that's not going to be an easy task."

"Well thankfully Mr. Lennox, rest his soul, left a very firm foundation – it's actually largely intact. But the walls and what had been done on the inside – gone. And we're gonna have to be using some different materials. I'm not sure what he was using before, but it wasn't cheap."

"It was woods and other stuff – I won't go into details – to make the hall as near to acoustically perfect as possible. Not just the main auditorium – everywhere. I had envisioned a complete performance space. I guess we're just going to have to settle for one space instead of the whole thing, won't we?"

"I hate to tell you this Cas – can I call you Cas – but that's how it'll have to be. Now with the money that's left, I can do that. But your original plan – that's history, my friend."

Cas nodded, feeling resigned. "Alright. Thanks, Gabriel."

Both stood, shaking hands again. "Let's go build a concert hall."

. . .

Dean was waiting for Cas when he got home.

He rushed over to meet him, and kissed him as he closed the door behind him. He suddenly realized that he really liked the idea of coming home to Dean every night.

"How was your first day back?"

"Well Dean" he began as he set his things down and got some water from the kitchen "it's not good. The plan that I had, the plan that was in place so... perfectly... it's gone." Cas's voice broke slightly as he uttered the final two words. Dean started to move to embrace him, but he was stopped. Voice raising gradually, Cas continued. "I was sure, absolutely sure that I could make this perfect performing space. Any part of it would be ideal Dean. But then it was taken away from me, ripped away by a big gust of wind. I lost ten of my guys, I lost the building, I lost myself to a bottle of alcohol Dean." He turned back to the green-eyed man. "The last two weeks Dean – they haven't been good. Now I have a concert hall that's going to be less than half of what I wanted it to be. And the Guild, they still want something I can't give them now." Cas sat down in one of the kitchen chairs heavily, Dean settling into the one across from him. He rested his head on the table, his shoulders shaking as he began to sob. Half of him hated himself for doing it, for being weak, but it felt like it was all he could do right now.

"Cas... come on man." Dean's voice was harder than it was before. "You can't make this all better by yourself."

Cas's head snapped up. "But I'm the one who promised to deliver, and now that's been taken away from me."

Dean stood up, yelling at Cas. "Come down off of your goddamn arrogant high horse Cas. You're not God. Just because you promised something doesn't mean you can make it happen – it's called life."

"You have no right to y-"

"Cas this goddamn thing nearly killed you. Look, I get it – you want something to be proud of. But it's ruining you Cas. You look terrible, and I'm not just talking about the cut on the side of your head. The last two months Cas – you're like a different person. Whatever this is – sobbing, whiny, petulant, - Cas that isn't you. That is not the guy that I fell in love with." Dean stopped yelling and broke eye contact and in a quiet voice said "The guy I still love."

Cas was stunned. Dean had never yelled at him, not like this. He hadn't caught the last thing he said.

"You what Dean?."

"I love you Cas. And watching you ruin yourself over a building – that's all it is, a building, it's hurting me just as much as you. If I could help you, I would. If I could make it so that that tornado had never touched down, I would. But Cas I can't."

For the second time in recent memory, Cas found himself apologizing. "Dean you're right. You are very, very right." Dean looked back at him, looking hurt. "I've let this thing dominate me, run my life." He stood up and stepped closer to Dean. "I should have realized that sooner. I'm sorry." He stood there, his head cast down. He felt terrible, worse than he had before. "I want to make it up to you Dean, really."

Dean took his hand. "Just.. let it go Cas. Just don't let it overrun you again. I want to come home to a boyfriend who's not all strung out and angry. That's all, okay?"

Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder. "Dean why am I so stupid sometimes. Why can't I just let things be and roll with the punches."

"Because of a little thing called passion, my angel. I know a guy who's taught me a lot about it." He put his arms around Cas, pulling him close. Even when he was mad at him, Dean still wanted to touch Cas.

Cas looked Dean in the eye. "Dean do.. you have an erection?"

Dean didn't shift under his gaze. "Well... yeah. It's been a while since we uh..."

Cas realized that it had been weeks since they'd had sex, so wrapped up in his work he had been. That's when his own body started to stir. He put his hands on the sides of Dean's face and kissed him. Instantly his stress began to dissipate. It was as though he was the balm for all of his troubled thoughts. His tongue probed against Dean's lips, and they slid open. Mindful of the bandage still on his head, Dean put his hand on the back of Cas's head, cradling it as his other moved down his back to rub and squeeze his ass. He could feel Cas's hands moving to unbuckle his belt and let his jeans drop. Soon they were around his ankles and he felt a warm hand slide into his boxers, stroking him to full hardness.

Cas broke them apart and whispered in Dean's ear, his tone sultry. "I need you Dean."

Dean stepped out of his jeans and shoes and picked Cas up, taking him to the bedroom. He pinned him down on the bed, kissing him more hungrily than before. God it had been so long since he had had Cas like this. He could tell too, because his boyfriend was moaning in his throat as Dean rubbed his crotch through the front of his dress pants. Cas pushed him off for just a moment, long enough to remove his polo, exposing his body. Dean moved down, his stubble rasping against Cas's skin as he kissed his way down his torso. He circled Cas's nipples, biting at them, harder than he had before. Cas cursed, and pulled him back up, their lips connecting immediately. He could feel Dean's cock pressing against his thigh, heightening his own arousal. Dean's hands fumbled with Cas's own belt, and as soon as he got it undone his pants were gone, leaving only a pair of straining orange briefs.

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking up at his boyfriend.

Cas, of all the times to be embarrassed, was right now. His only reply was "It's nearly laundry day." His embarrassment was forgotten as Dean ran his teeth lightly over the outline of his cock. He began to suck at the wet spot where precum was leaking like a faucet. Cas cursed and grabbed Dean's hair, trying to push him down onto his throbbing dick through the fabric. Dean got the message and pulled his briefs off. As he did, he licked up the underside of Cas's dick, lapping up the precum that had run down its length. He took Cas all the way down to the base. It had been awhile since Cas had had any sort of release, and he could tell. Cas moaned his name, urging him to suck harder. He swirled his tongue over the head, teasing him ever closer to orgasm. The only thoughts Cas could manage right now were that Dean's mouth felt like heaven and soon he was going to cum.

"De... I'm go... c..." Cas's back arched his orgasm threatened to draw closer. Dean backed off and looked up at him

"I..need..you...now"

Dean dropped his own pants, grabbing for a condom. Cas got on his hands and knees and bent down, offering up his lightly haired ass. Dean poured lube on himself and slicked his lover up as well, making sure he was good and wet.

"You sure you want this baby?" Normally Cas topped, but today he had other ideas. He just nodded and did his best to spread himself further apart. Dean rested his swollen head against Cas's hole. "Cas this is going to hurt, but I'll try to ease it in as much as possible." He pushed in, just past the head, scrambling to assess how well Cas could take it. He could see that he was trying to relax as much as possible, but he could tell it hurt.

"Baby we can stop if.."

"No... please Dean... keep going"

Dean slid in a little more, and Cas cried out loudly, but didn't make any sort of move towards stopping him. He poured on a little more lube, and soon was fully sheathed inside Cas. He was taking deep breaths, his muscles trying to adjust. Cas had never taken a cock so big, and this was more than a small challenge. But he wanted it, really wanted it.

"Fuck me Dean, please. But...slowly." He screwed his eyes shut as Dean began to thrust behind him.

It actually wasn't that bad once he got going. Dean held onto his hips, keeping him steady. He also found that the fullness felt tremendous, every nerve tingling as Dean moved in and out. Cas was positively ready to burst, and Dean hit his prostate with every stroke. His head was swimming with pleasure, the pain soon subsiding to an ache. He urged Dean to go faster, now that he had become more adjusted to his size. He felt his own cock swinging beneath him, and he reached down to stroke himself, timing his strokes with Dean's thrusts. His eyes rolled back in his head as his pleasure heightened, making him feel as if he was flying.

"Cas... I'm gonna..." Dean started to go faster, his hips pumping furiously as his orgasm came even closer.

"Cum for me Dean, cum inside me baby." Cas's own climax was approaching very quickly.

"Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" was all Dean could manage as he tipped over the edge, his cock pulsing with white heat as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Soon, Cas was cumming right behind him, his climax brought on by the pulsing of Dean's member. His cum sprayed beneath him, getting all over the sheets. He could feel Dean trying to keep himself steady, so he gently moved forward, Dean pulling out of him, still hanging onto his hips. Dean leaned down and kissed his way down Cas's back, raising goosebumps up and down his spine.

"Dean I need to..." Dean moved and let him stand. He turned to his lover and pulled him in for a kiss, one hand around his neck and his other moving towards his cock to pull the condom off. He passed it up and he let the warm liquid trickle onto his tongue. Soon he was passing it back and forth with Dean, letting him savor the fruits of his labor.

"Cas that.. that was wonderful."

"I figured we would try something different today." He rested his head on his shoulder, just breathing in his scent. "I'm sorry for being as ass Dean. This wasn't worth giving up. It never was, truthfully."

Dean tilted his head up and kissed him. "I think all is forgiven, my angel. I can't stay mad at you anyway." His smile made Cas melt on the inside.

"Come on. Let's get this mess cleaned up and see about some dinner. I think I can make the rest of your woes go away."

Castiel knew that Dean could do exactly that.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Castiel awakened to the majestic opening chords of Beethoven's 5th piano concerto. He always set his alarm to something upbeat, and as the first rays of sunshine peaked through his curtains, he felt magnificent. He started to rise up off of his pillows to shut his alarm off, but he was held down by the comfortable weight of Dean's left arm. The evening before came to his mind as he gently pushed Dean off of him. After showering, they had gone to Cas's favorite Chinese restaurant and had had a very long talk about how coping and loss, and he felt much better afterward. He had fallen asleep in Dean's arms, full of determination to make the best of what had become a vastly different situation. Today, he wasn't going to let the fact that things had changed overwhelm him. No, he was going to make the best of it. But what made him feel the best was the fact that Dean was going to be right there, supporting him. He had never met someone so selfless in his life. It warmed his heart to no end.

He shut off his alarm and made his way to the shower. He turned the knobs to just the right temperature and stepped in, allowing the hot water to ease away the tension in his knotted muscles. He soaped up his body, taking care to wash every part of it. Right as he was about to start rubbing shampoo in his hair, he heard a deep voice behind him and a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

"Got room for one more?"

Cas turned and looked up into Dean's eyes, smiling. He kissed him full on the lips, the memories of their lovemaking still fresh in his mind. He pulled back and rested his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Thanks for staying the night Dean. I really appreciate it."

"Anything for you my angel. Besides, I never turn down a king sized memory foam mattress."

Cas laughed, a chuckle in the back of his throat. "You're far more comfortable than any bed to snuggle on." He kissed him again and began to wash Dean. He used his hands, feeling every plane and line of Dean's beautiful body, the body he wanted to always wake up next to. Dean practically melted in his hands, letting out gentle sounds of happiness as Castiel's hands moved all over him. They finished their shower with a long, slow kiss, only stopping as the water began to go cold. They toweled each other off, planting kisses on each freshly dried body part. Had Dean not completely drained him the day before, he would have been immensely turned on. As he wandered back into his bedroom, he noticed that if he didn't get going soon he'd be late.

Dean came up behind him and started kissing down his neck as he began to look for what he was going to wear that day.

"Dean... baby, please" he giggled as his lover began to lightly run his fingers over his sides. "You have... to... stop!" He fell into a gale of laughter as Dean continued to tickle him. He finally had to turn around and push Dean away, not hard, just enough to break contact. "Dean I'm gonna be late if you don't stop." He tried to make himself sound serious but he smiled at the mock hurt that spread across the green-eyed man's face. "I promise that tonight I'll try to make some time to continue this." He looked at him fondly and went back the spread of clothes in front of him, Dean sighing and looking for his own garments. Cas knew he wasn't actually sad, just pretending. As he was tying up his tie, he turned back to Dean, who was by now pulling his shoes on.

"Tell you what – I'll stay an hour extra tonight and get my work done. Then I'll come home.." he kissed Dean on the forehead "and cook naked – how does that sound?" Dean looked up at him and licked his lips. "That sounds perfect."

They parted in the parking garage, Dean speeding away to the club for rehearsal in his 1967 Impala that he kept in immaculate condition. The exhaust pitch of that car made Cas's breath hitch – he loved it. It was a deep, throaty sound, like Dean's voice. He thought about it all the way to the construction site, arriving right as Gabriel and his crew were spilling out of their trucks. He strode over to the contractor, sticking out his hand to shake. "Gabriel – can I see you in the office for a moment?"

He led the shorter man into the trailer, and as he was unpacking his briefcase, he began to explain what he was thinking.

"I've been thinking a lot about how my original plans changed, and what we're doing now. And you know what Gabe – let's do this. Let's make the best damn auditorium in the Southwest. I've got a few ideas jotted down here – do you think we could incorporate them?"

Gabriel hovered over the sheet of paper that Cas had presented to him, and said, his voice full of assurance, "I think we can do this. Welcome back to the project Mr. Novak – nice to see you looking 100% percent again."

. . .

Three months later

With Christmas just around the corner, Dean was feeling very cheerful. He was dancing better than he ever had before, and Cas was there at least twice a week, cheering louder than everyone else in the audience. Sam had hired a top crew of back up dancers, working one on one with most of them, working tirelessly with them to perfect routines that were becoming not only more exciting but more difficult. They all enjoyed the challenge, and every night the crowd was always a little bit bigger, and the tips for individual performances were rolling in. It was a good time to be a dancer, Dean thought to himself as he stepped down off the stage to get a drink of water. Sam came over to him as he was pouring his second cup.

"What's up Sammy?" He took a long swig, relishing the cool liquid as it made its way down his throat.

"Well Dean, business has been good, really good lately, and I'm considering – mind you, just considering – opening a second club here in Makepeace. And Dean, I want to make you owner. You've been dancing a lot since you started headlining here, and I think you deserve to run your own location. I can help you get it all set up, but I think it's time we start spreading out more. I want people to remember you, because you've got a lot of talent. And I think you deserve a bigger piece of the pie, really. You'll get to choose the name, dancers, everything. I just want to help get you started."

Dean was speechless, almost shocked. He had thought about owning his own club one day sure, but always somewhere else, and nothing anywhere near as successful as The Slaughterhouse. "Sammy are.. are you serious?" He swallowed, trying to process what he was hearing.

"Consider it my Christmas present to you Dean." Sam smiled that smile that had won so many people over to his cause.

"Sammy – yes, yes yes!" He put down his glass and hugged the taller man, clapping him on the back. "I have to call Cas, I have to..." Dean was walking on air as he thought about it – his own club!

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "Slow down there cowboy – we still have a show to do tonight. Tell you what – we'll talk about this more in detail over the holidays. I need to close the place down for a few days anyway. Let's get back to work, alright?"

Dean was on a high for the rest of the afternoon that he could only equate to sex.

Cas flicked the lights off in his office and stepped outside. Against the setting sun, the high walls of the ever nearing completion Margrave Hall soared upwards. The outside was complete, and the inside parts were steadily on their way to being done. He walked into the nearly complete lobby, its only need being one final coat of soft cream paint. He strolled through the big red, wooden doors that led to orchestra left, casting his eyes upward. The floor was done, and the stage and shell were nearly halfway complete. He had managed to retain the 3,000 seat capacity, and the organ he was having installed would be built according to his original vision. He had come to love this building, even if every part of it wasn't exactly what he had originally wanted. Perhaps in time changes would be made, but for now, this single grand space was plenty. He thought of what it would be like to hear the hum of violins reverberating through the hall as they played Brahms, the local jazz band that would swing the nights away. He thought about the opera company that was being formed in Makepeace, the way the singers would make their way across the stage as their voices filled the air with the strains of Donizetti and Wagner. He breathed in the smell of construction and progress, shutting his eyes and imagining what it was going to be like when it was done. His thoughts were interrupted as his phone chirped a brief horn call from Wagner's Ring cycle – it was a text from Dean. He swiped his phone open and read the message out loud:

"Meet me at Valencio's – I'm in a celebrating mood. Good news :)"

He exited the hall, taking care to lock the doors behind him. He clambered into his car, wondering what had his boyfriend so excited.

. . .

Cas walked into the restaurant, sniffing the air as he did. Valencio's had become one of his favorite eateries, with hearty Italian food that made Cas's taste buds sing. He remembered the first time they had eaten here. He and Dean had fucked in his office one afternoon when things weren't very busy. He had loved the thrill of getting caught as Dean pumped into him, one hand clamped over his mouth so that they wouldn't be heard. Afterward, they had come here for lunch, sweaty and hungry. He had eaten an entire pizza, letting Dean suck the sauce that ran down his fingers. He shuddered with pleasure at the memory, and looked for Dean. He saw his lover stand up and wave him over. He was greeted with a tight hug and a quick, tongue filled kiss. He was definitely in a good mood.

As he sat down, he asked "Dean what's got you looking like you swallowed an entire bottle of happy pills?"

Dean explained to him the offer that Sam made, Cas smiling the whole time.

"Dean that's wonderful!" He leaned across the booth and kissed him, just a soft one. He sat back down and took Dean's hands in his own. "I'm so happy for you babe – you deserve it." Cas smiled wide, and Dean's insides turned to mush when he did.

"I really think you should take up this offer – I'll help you with it too! We could make it the best club in town – because you'll be running it." Dean couldn't help but feel warm at Cas's faith in him. They finished their meal, Dean talking about what he wanted to do and how, and Cas listened, offering advice when Dean asked for it, writing down ideas here and there. They left the restaurant arm in arm, taking a good while to say good night in the parking lot. That night when Castiel laid down to fall asleep, he was happier than he had been in a long time.

. . .

Christmas Eve

Gabriel had let everyone go home at noon, hanging back an extra fifteen minutes to talk with Cas about some points of construction. They had decided to close the site from now until the second week in January, feeling that everyone deserved a break for working so hard. Cas was in the process of turning off his computer and taking with him what he needed over the holidays when he heard the Impala pull up. He practically bounced out of the door and ran over to Dean, enveloping him in a hug.

"Hey you! What are you doing here?" Cas looked into his eyes, watching them twinkle.

"I just wanted to see the place. It's been awhile since I've been over here and was wandering how the toothpicks and duct tape were holding up." Cas punched him playfully in the arm and hugged him again. "Come on – I'll show you."

They walked into the now complete lobby, the smell of fresh paint hanging in the air. The space was huge, big enough to accommodate the crowds that would inevitably fill the space after a show. It looked wonderful – it reminded Dean of an old-style theater, the grand coming together with the simple. Cas had done a good job of blending styles, so far as he could tell. Cas grabbed his hand and led him into the main hall, and Dean gasped. It was huge. Even though it wasn't done, he could tell that when it was it would be magnificent. Cas stood a little behind him, letting him take it all in.

"Cas this is going to be beautiful, really. I don't know much about this sort of thing but it's... I don't know how to describe it." Cas just smiled, and led him to the now complete stage. He pointed to where it could be opened up for opera, and where the organ would be installed. He stood right in the middle, trying to imagine what a full house would look like. Cas moved around the stage, showing how there were hardly any acoustically dead spots on stage, the better for everything being able to come through. He loved watching Cas get excited about his work, and it was infectious. He was busy explaining to Dean how the view from every part of the hall would be clear when Dean stopped him.

"Cas?"

He stopped his breathless lecture and turned to him. "What is it babe?"

Dean shifted his weight, trying to figure out how he wanted to word what he was about to say. He had been thinking about it for weeks, even Sam had given some input. He'd been having trouble finding the right moment to do it, and well, now was as good as any. "Castiel" he began "I..."

Cas's attention was fully focused on Dean now. "Are you okay Dean?" He was trying to read his boyfriend's body language and face. He was clearly trying to say something important. "It's okay, I'm not going to explode, whatever it is."

Dean let out a long breath and thought, fuck it. He moved over to Cas, and got down on his knee. "Castiel Novak, these last months... they've been some of the best of my life. I never knew how much I could come to love someone else, but Cas I love you. And this might be a little.. premature, but I'm gonna go with my gut on this one. Castiel, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That's the only way I know how to say it. I love you so, so much. Will you.." he choked on his words. "Will you marry me?" He produced a ring from his pocket, a simple stainless steel band. He slid it onto Cas's right ring finger, taking care to be gentle.

Cas tackled him to the floor, showering his face with kisses. "Yes, Dean, a million time over yes!" He began to cry tears of happiness, trailing wet streaks onto Dean's shirt. He continued to hug and kiss him, right there on the stage of that empty, half finished auditorium. After what seemed like hours just holding each other and many happy tears, they made their way back to Cas's apartment. He walked in to find that there was a pile of presents under the tree and Sam along with a host of dancers from the club, Gabriel, and several of the workers Cas had gotten close to. Cas was overwhelmed. He whispered into Dean's ear as the party came forward congratulating them.

"Dean what.. what is this?"

"I took the liberty of putting together a Christmas party for you Cas, if that's alright. What happened back at the auditorium was just icing on the cake. I've been planning this for awhile."

Cas drew him in for a kiss, losing himself for just a moment in Dean's touch. "It's perfect babe. Absolutely perfect."

. . .

It was late when the guests finally left, each and every single one of them giving them one more hug or kind word of congratulations. As Cas moved around the living room gathering up stray pieces of trash, he thought about everything that had happened today. Christmas Eve normally meant him sipping a bourbon, watching White Christmas or listening to Ella sing carols by himself. But this one, this one was going to be so much better than that.

Dean returned from tossing out a bag of garbage, and hugged Cas from behind. "Want to snuggle as soon as you're done with that?" He pressed his lips to the nape of his neck and breathed in the smell of Cas's aftershave.

"That sounds excellent my lovely." He blushed at himself for coming up with such a mushy nickname. "Movie or just me and you?"

"Well there's this one old film called White Christmas that I like to watch this time of the year. Have you ever seen it"

"One of my favorites Cas. But I get the feeling I'll like it even better this year."

Castiel smiled and did his best to finish what he was doing without looking like he was hurrying.

. . .

The next morning, Christmas Day, Dean woke up feeling like a ray of sunlight. He turned his head, seeing the top of Cas's mussed head peeping out from underneath the thick down comforter. He nuzzled up behind him and kissed the side of his neck to awaken him. He heard a noise of discontent as Cas did his best to disappear further under the covers. You're not getting away that easy, Dean thought. He climbed over Cas, positioning himself so that he was laying on his side facing him. The sudden intrusion into his personal space made the dark haired man move to the other side of the bed.

"Caaaaaaaas." Dean said in a sing-song voice. "I have a present for you." He heard him grumble something about presents being there later. "Oh no you don't." Dean dove under the covers and flipped Cas on his back, earning himself a sleepy groan of protest. That groan of protest turned to pleasure as Dean yanked down the waistband of Cas's pajama bottoms and his warm mouth took in his morning wood.

Suddenly Cas was very awake. "Deeeeeeean" he moaned as his lover's mouth teased his cockhead. "Deeean... please stop." Dean just started to suck harder. "Dean!" He pulled the covers back and his cock left the warmth of Dean's mouth, leaving Dean looking rather hurt.

"I thought you were enjoying-"

"Bathroom babe – gotta pee." Cas hopped to the bathroom, trying to contain his erection as he relieved himself. He certainly hadn't been expecting a blowjob, and now he wanted more – he just didn't want to be uncomfortable while it was happening. He shook off the last few drops and flushed, going back into the bedroom, Dean still sitting where he'd left him.

"Now what were you saying?" He straddled Dean's legs, bending down to kiss him. Dean's arms drew him down, and his own turgid member pressed up against Cas's bottom, grinding against him. Cas's hands made their way into Dean's hair, pulling it gently. Dean moaned into his mouth at the new sensation. He could feel the stripper's hands moving to remove his pajama bottoms, and he lifted himself so that he could. His cock sprung free, and he laid down on top of him, letting Dean feel his arousal against his stomach. Cas's hands moved from Dean's hair and started towards his boxers, which were tenting with want. He pulled them off, and tossed them away. Dean ground his naked body against Cas's, his breath becoming more and more labored.

Dean flipped Castiel over and immediately went down to his dick, determined to finish what he had started. He sucked in his breath as the warmth was back around him, driving him wild. He was convinced that this was better than anything that Dean could physically give him. He mewled as Dean's efforts became more and more successful, making him harder and harder. He put his hands on the back of his head, holding his lover steady as he began to fuck his mouth. Dean took it like a trooper as Cas's hips pumped into his face. He let out a low groan as his orgasm took hold, sending warm cum down Dean's throat. He sucked out every last drop, letting his cock go when it went soft.

Cas brought him up for a kiss and flipped him over. He trailed his hands down and cupped Dean's pulsing member, eliciting a small moan as he began to stroke him. He continued to kiss him as his hand reached for the bedside table, grabbing for lube. He had a special treat for Dean.

Lips still locked, he uncapped the bottle and poured some in his hand, and reached behind him to slick himself up. He then moved to do the same to Dean's cock. He broke the kiss and in one swift motion, sank down onto Dean, letting forth a swear as he was suddenly filled. His own cock came back to life, harder than it was before. Dean was lying there, a look of complete surprise on his face.

"Cas are you wearing a-"

Cas hushed him with a kiss. "I trust you Dean. I wanted to do something special for you."

He began to rock his hips, Dean's surprise turning into pleasure as he did so. Soon he was moaning Cas's name like a ritual.

Dean felt like he was in heaven at the moment. "Fuck baby you feel so good, so tight. Cas, oh my Cas."

"So big Dean, so good, so hot, ahhhh, fuck me Dean, fuck me hard!"

Dean began to pump into him, his cock seemingly getting thicker with each thrust. Cas was sweating, as was he.

"So close baby, so close!"

"Harder, babe, harder! Oh Deeeeeeeeeeeean! More, yes yes yes yes yes!"

Their orgasms came at the same time, Cas pumping out cum all over Dean's stomach as he felt his lover's cock pulse inside him. He felt the white heat explode within him, trembling as Dean released deep inside. Cas's head dipped as his body went slack, holding his hands against Dean's chest so that he wouldn't fall over. They stayed like that for awhile, just reveling in the bliss of each other. Eventually, Cas moved off of Dean, feeling warm semen trickle out of him as he did so. He loved the feeling, glad his boyfriend had spent himself completely inside him.

Dean looked up at him and said "Next time you do that, give me a heads-up. That felt amazing."

Cas moved to lay on his side, tracing lazy circles over Dean's body. "I will, promise. But for now, let's go get cleaned up and celebrate in the more traditional manner. I think Sam said that he and Jess were coming over later, and we wouldn't want to look unprepared, now would we?"

Dean found it hard to argue with the man who had just rode him bareback.


	9. Chapter 9

Mid January

Castiel, Gabriel, and two of Gabriel's foremen were gathered in Cas's office, having a meeting that Cas had desperately been trying to keep from happening. It was time to inform them of the fact that the Arts Guild was threatening to shut down the project if the hall wasn't finished by the end of the month. In spite of even longer days and coming back to work on the second day of the year, the hall's inside wasn't anywhere near enough to finished. Cas had been fighting with every fiber of his being against the Guild for them to aim for a fall instead of winter opening.

"Gentleman, as you know, the Guild's deadline hasn't been met. I've been trying hard to push it back further, but they've only given us until the end of the month, which leaves us with two weeks to finish it. I know we can't do it, but they've threatened to pull the plug on the whole thing. Personally, I don't think this makes a lick of sense. It's done on the outside, the lobby's finished, the auditorium is getting closer to completion every day – but it's still not ready." Cas ran his hands over his face, hoping to find an answer if he just shut his eyes for a moment.

Gabriel spoke up."Well Cas, I can try to get the inside done enough, but that's a lot. We still have to lay carpet, put in the seats, everything. We don't know how everything is going to sound, but I can guarantee you it won't be good. Why are they pushing so bad for this to be done so quickly anyway?"

Cas looked at him, saying "I don't know. It's not like anyone else is building in the area. And the thing is, it's not even the whole board that wants this – it's just the chair, Raphael. He's bullied the other members into thinking his way. They're too scared to stand up to him. I guess it's a matter of pride for him or something."

He sat back in his chair, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. "I'll go to them again tonight. They're meeting at the town hall, and maybe I can talk them into extending the deadline. I'll try guys, I promise."

Castiel wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

. . .

That evening, as Dean was finishing up rehearsal with his back up dancers, he got a text from Cas:

"Heading to town hall tonight – meeting with The Beast and his subjects. Won't be home until late. Love you babe."

Dean closed his phone and sighed. He had met Raphael once before, and didn't enjoy the experience in the least. He looked like he was going to eat someone alive or some other equally horrible thing. He knew that deep down, Cas was scared of him. But Cas's desire to build his hall right outweighed his fear. He opened his phone back up and brought up the message and replied.

"I'll have a bite ready to eat when you get home. Good luck Cas, I'll be thinking about you." He typed a heart at the end of his message and hit send. Sam came over to him from the wings of the stage.

"What's got you looking so down, Dean? Looks like someone kicked your puppy." Sam handed him a towel to wipe his brow with.

"It's Cas. He's meeting with the Guild tonight, and I can tell he's fed up with them. The other night I woke up at two in the morning and he had fallen asleep at his desk trying to come up with a solution. I feel bad for the guy Sam, I really do. He's spreading himself thin. The last couple of weeks have been hell."

Sam chewed his lip. "Have you two been okay? I remember the last time he got like this you guys hardly spoke to each other."

Dean smiled at his cousin's concern. "Yeah Sammy, we're okay. He tries to give as much time to us as he can. The other night after he got off from work, and I could look at him and tell he was dead on his feet, he still came to the show and cheered so loud I could swear I heard him over everyone else. I'd say we're better than okay."

Sam laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You're a good fiance Dean, you know that? Tell you what, since it's a weeknight I'll just have you do another show Saturday afternoon. You go support Cas."

Dean hugged Sam, saying "Thanks Sammy. I appreciate it. And I promise you won't be sorry on Saturday, alright?"

"Go catch him before the meeting starts. I'm sure he'll be glad you're there."

Dean had never moved so quickly in his life.

. . .

Castiel pulled into the parking lot in front of the Makepeace Town Hall and looked up at the majestic building. Any other time, he would be appreciative of the Art Deco architecture, but now he was nervous. He had met with the Guild plenty of times before, but tonight he was on edge, his blood thundering in his ears and his mouth drier than cotton. He screwed up his courage and got out of his car, making his way to the magnificent gilded doors that led into the building's lobby. As he strode through, he saw a familiar face sitting on one of the waiting area's sumptuous couches.

"Care for some moral support?" Dean met Cas halfway, hugging him tight. He even managed to draw a hand across the front of Cas's pants as he pulled away from him. Cas smacked him playfully, chastising him. "Easy there, you horny idiot. I'm about to go up against The Beast and I'd rather not have an erection when I do."

Dean laughed, and Cas rolled his eyes. "Alright, Mr. Bigshot. I'll try to keep my hands off you for a little bit. It's just so difficult when you look like, well, you." Cas could tell he was trying to cheer him up, and he really did feel a little bit better. "Thanks Dean, really." He kissed him on the lips, and started for the elevator. "Come on – I want to look over what I'm going to say before the shit starts to fly."

. . .

The meeting chamber was an impressive space. There were a lot of other people in the audience, mostly assistants and other workers from the Guild offices, along with people from the general public. Cas and Dean sat in the front row of seats, near the table where the Guild would be addressing questions from members of the audience. Cas opened up his briefcase and got out a sheet of paper he had typed up earlier. As he did so, Dean looked over the room. Some of the Guild members had already taken their place at the table. They all looked just as nervous as Cas did. Just how much power did this Raphael wield?

The light hubbub of the room fell silent as The Beast, as Cas had nicknamed him, came in. Dean hadn't forgotten the negative impression that he had made on him, and tonight it was no different. He felt Cas tense next to him, and Dean laid his hand on his and squeezed it. Raphael began to speak.

"Ladies and gentleman, I think you all know why we are here. Our leader on the Margrave Hall project, Mr. Castiel Novak, has failed to deliver on time what he promised to be, in his own words, the finest performing arts space in the Southwestern United States. Would you care to explain why this is, Castiel?" Raphael sat back in his chair and looked to Cas for his answer.

Cas stood up, looking Raphael in the eye directly. "Chairman, as you recall, I've explained this God knows how many times, but I can't control the weather. I had no idea a tornado was going to come through and tear everything down I don't-."

"Yes and we asked you to have this built on a schedule. The people want a hall sooner rather than later."

"No, Chairman, no they don't. You want one sooner so you can inflate your already outsized ego and preen yourself in front of society." This drew a cascade of snickers from the audience and he saw some of the other board members smile.

Not even slightly bothered, Raphael continued. "I only represent the interests of the community, Mr. Novak. No more. And if I am prominent within this community, why should I not desire to enjoy that position.?"

Cas was fighting his anger by this point. "Chairman, what the community wants is a hall that is nothing but exceptional. And what you're asking for, on the schedule that you, and only you have, been pushing for, will be anything but that. Simply put, there's no way to finish in two weeks time. I'm sorry."

He and Raphael went back and forth like this for half an hour, the rest of the audience just watching in shock as the verbal battle continued. Dean was nervous for Cas, mostly because he was afraid that The Beast was going to come over the table at him. He could tell that his lover was fighting anger and frustration, and that it wasn't far from boiling over. He watched as the two men fought, trying to outmaneuver each other. Dean gripped the handles on his chair, trying to figure out what he was going to say.

Finally, Raphael held up a hand and cut Castiel off, who looked ready to murder him. "Why don't we let the public voice their opinion on this?"

Several people made passionate arguments, mostly in agreement with Castiel. Dean took this to be a good sign, and the other members of the board were paying attention with guarded enthusiasm. Finally, Raphael turned his attention to Dean. "Do you have anything to add Mr..."

Dean cleared his throat and stood up. "Winchester, Dean Winchester. Mr. Novak's fiance."

Raphael scoffed "That's an unfair bias. I don't think that-"

Dean cut him off. "Yeah it might be but I'm still a citizen of this city, so I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen. I've known and fallen in love with the man that you have been beating into the ground basically since this thing was a giant hole in the dirt. And Chairman, all I can say is that you don't realize just how good of a job he has done in adapting to a situation that changed completely. He had a plan to give you something spectacular, I mean something like you never could have dreamed of. And it hurt him when he couldn't do that, couldn't give this city that he felt was vital to its life. He changed his plans, and he made the best of it He is trying his best, and having been inside that building myself – it's gonna be something special. Now I'm no expert on these things – I strip for my bread – but it's gonna be great. So put that in your pipe and smoke it Chairman."  
The room exploded with applause, and even the board members voiced their enthusiasm. Any support that Raphael might have had evaporated. Castiel came over to where Dean was still standing and hugged him. When he looked back up at Dean, there were tears in his eyes. "Thank you." He mouthed and then continued to hug him, cheers sounding around them.

. . .

The next morning, Castiel received an email from Anna Milton, the vice-chair of the board. It read:

"Dear Mr. Novak,

The Chairman has in a very rapid decision, ceded his position due to an overwhelming opposition of opinion. The board voted, and you may continue work as originally scheduled. We hope that you will be at the opening in September. We would also like to discuss future career plans for you – let me know when you have some free time and we'll talk.

Anna Milton"

Castiel's whoop of victory could have raised the dead.

. . .

Late August

Dean pulled up to where Cas's office had moved, a spot out on the edge of the freshly paved parking lot. He noticed the lights were off, so he drove over to the auditorium the building rose majestically against the dark blue Arizona sky. He got out of his car, and strode through the big doors that had been painted gold and white. Almost like the gates to heaven itself, Dean thought. He walked through the empty lobby, and made his way into the auditorium. The Makepeace Philharmonic and Chorus were onstage, rehearsing Mahler's 8th Symphony. He looked around the auditorium. There were only a couple of people in seats, probably some of the crew who worked there. He scanned the space, and up in the organ loft he saw a mop of messy black hair moving along with the music. The orchestra swelled to a climax, and with a massive resounding of E flat major, the music stopped and the musicians began to disperse. He saw Castiel come down and cross over to the conductor, who followed him back over to the organ. Cas played a section of music, asking the conductor about voicing and once they found one they both agreed upon, shut the organ off. Cas's smile lit up the room as he bounded off the stage and into Dean's arms.

He kissed him briefly but passionately. "Hey there handsome – to what to do I owe the pleasure?"

Dean could barely contain his excitement. "I open in a month Cas – my own club! I got the paperwork to sign off on today. It'll be-" His words were cut off as Cas kissed him again, his arms going around his back and pulling him in closer.

Cas finally broke the kiss and said "That's so wonderful! Dean, oh Dean I'm so happy for you!" "Thanks Cas, really. You'll have standing tickets as long as the place is open."

Bliss couldn't even begin to describe how they felt.

. . .

The Grand Opening of Margrave Hall, Mid September

It was one of the biggest events in decades in Makepeace. The place was packed to the rafters, with some people even standing. Castiel looked down from the organ loft, surveying the crowd. There had been an opening ceremony and dinner the night before, and now the first performance was about to get underway. He looked around the room for Dean and spotted him in one of the boxes on the far wall with Sam, Jess, and Gabriel. He smiled and waved at him, and all four of them returned it. His heart swelled with pride. After a long, hard struggle, this was finally happening. And rehearsing with the orchestra over the last month had proven that his wildest dreams had come true – the hall sounded magnificent. The lights dimmed and the concertmaster and then conductor came out, and the downbeat was signaled. The auditorium practically rumbled as Castiel sounded forth the massive chords that began the work that Mahler had penned over a century ago.

. . .

The applause was torrential – even Castiel got a bow all to himself. Tears streamed down his face as he stood on the stage, hand in hand with the soloists and conductor. He looked up at Dean, who he saw wiping his own face. For once in a very, very long time, Castiel Novak was completely happy.

The applause, the cheering, the occasion – it was more than he ever could have asked for.

The best part was that Dean was right there, cheering for all he was worth.

. . .

Late September

"Ready Dean?" Sam stuck his head in the doorway, checking on Dean one more time.

It was his last performance as a regular at The Slaughterhouse, and the place was packed. Tomorrow, he opened his own club as owner, and he was sad to be leaving the stage. He figured that at thirty, now was the time to shine bright and fast. Tomorrow was phase two of his career, and he was excited.

Even more excited that the man he loved more than life itself was going to be right there with him the whole way.

He steeled himself one more time, his dressing room door opened, and he stepped out, adjusting the policeman cap on his head.

Cas was down front, cheering louder than everyone else.

Dean had never danced so hard in his life.

. . .

April of the following year

Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester were married on April 28th, two years to the day after they had first met. The ceremony took place in the lobby of Margrave Hall, before a group of 200 people – orchestra members, strippers, and friends from all over the place. Sam gave Dean away, and Gabriel did the same for Cas. Cas's parents were right up front, and no one cried more than his mother. Dean could swear that as he kissed his husband, he could hear the angels in heaven singing.


End file.
